


The most beautiful lie we have

by dazedandconfused



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Abusive John Winchester, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/F, F/M, Feelings, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mechanic Dean, Professor Castiel, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-24
Updated: 2016-09-25
Packaged: 2018-08-17 01:23:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 57,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8125117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dazedandconfused/pseuds/dazedandconfused
Summary: Castiel is working on his doctorate at the university of Stanford when principal Cain gives him a task to do. He is to be a mentor and a guide to the young Sam Winchester, a bright student with a full-ride and a troubled past. Castiel, having more than enough with his own past and current demons, worries he won't be of much help to the young Winchester. But through Sam, Castiel meets Dean, who awakens something in Castiel he thought he had long lost. Suddenly he wants something again, but the trouble with wanting something, is how it hurts so much more when you can't have it. A story about being brave and finding comfort in others, when you can't find it in yourself.





	1. The Big Brother (Dazed and confused)

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first attempt at writing a fanfiction, or anything really, ever. When I started out, I wanted this to be a fluffy porn, just a short and happy fic. Turns out that's not in my nature! Instead, it turned out to be almost 60k words of dark pasts and emotional conversations, but I loved every second of it. This is a story about putting yourself out there, about daring to move on from what's holding you back, and not letting your past define who you are. You design your own future. Make sure it's one you can be proud of. 
> 
> The chapter titles in brackets are all Led Zeppelin songs, FYI, as a tribute to one of my favorite bands of all time.
> 
> Warnings for talk of suicide, self-harming and severe abuse.

Castiel pinched his own thighs nervously, unable to calm himself down, even after pacing around the dean’s office for several minutes. He got up from his chair once again and walked another two rounds around the desk in the front of the room before sitting down anew. He checked his watch. Cain was late. Cain was always late, and Castiel knew that, yet he managed to be there ten minutes ahead of their meeting, being escorted into Cain’s office by the petite brunette sitting at the secretary desk. Castiel did not remember her full name, assuming it was Margaret, as Cain always called her Meg.

“It might take a while,” she said with a wolfish glare, giving him a wink and what Castiel couldn’t help but feel was a little too obvious and too long stare at his ass, currently hidden behind loose black slackers. Castiel did not really enjoy being looked at, even if it seemed to be with admiration of some sorts. He did not really consider himself something to admire.

“You are a remarkable human being, Castiel Novak!” a voice roared behind him, Castiel turning to see Cain closing the door behind him, eyes never leaving Castiel’s face. Oh yes, he definitely did not like being looked at. Especially not with that expression.

“And why is that, sir?” he asked, going for curiosity but somehow still not able to hide the worried tone in his voice.

“Because,” the dean started, as he moved around Castiel and sat down at the desk in front of him. They locked eyes. «I read your paper».

Castiel swallowed. Hannah and himself had been working on their literature thesis for almost three years now, leaving Castiel with only one year left of his doctorate before he actually could go on to researching, full time. That included full pay and no more teaching obligations. Thank god.

“It’s not done yet, sir,” Castiel began, speaking slowly and unsurely, but Cain just waved him off, silencing him.

“Oh, I know, but you are not far from done, and it is absolutely ravishing! I was, as you know, a little skeptical to your choice of topic, but you have really pulled through. You truly can write, my friend”.

Castiel’s brows furrowed and he started biting his lip, a nervous habit, and immediately stopped. He gave Cain a small smile.

“Thank you, sir. Hannah really has done most of the job,” he said. Cain waved him off again.

“Oh, I do not doubt your partner’s abilities, Castiel, however, I doubt you in any way have done less than her on this project. I know how hard you work. I have seen you”. Cain winked at him, and Castiel could almost feel himself blushing. The fact that Cain had been watching him made him feel... well, sort of creeped out, really. Mostly just grateful for the praise, he smiled, more genuine this time.

“Thank you,” he said again. “Cain”. Cain fell silent for a moment, just watching him, and Castiel wondered if this was his cue to go. He gently began pushing himself of the chair, when…

“I have a job for you”.

Damnit.

“I see,” Castiel said, hesitating. “I already have all my teaching hours aligned for this semester, I am not sure I will be able to take anymore”. He drove his nails into his palms, keeping his voice steady. Anna would be rather mad at him if she were to see the marks they left in his skin, like she said, it was not all that far from self-harming. As the poet she was, she would phrase it: «It is a narrow line between nails and knives». Castiel should write that down and email it to her.

“Oh, I know, it is not a teaching job, per say,” Cain said, taking a sip of his coffee mug. Somewhere in the back of Castiel’s mind, he could not help but wonder if the polite thing to do would be to bring Castiel coffee as well. After all, Cain had initiated this meeting of theirs. However, who was he to analyze social norms. He had like, two friends. Or at least two friendlyish people he talked to on a daily basis, Hannah being one of them and Anna being the other. And Anna was his sister. Maybe that did not really count. He had to ask Anna about that later, not really sure he wanted to know her answer.

“Not a teaching job?” Castiel asked politely, releasing his own hands and putting them firmly on the desk in front of him.

“More like a mentor,” Cain said, smiling smugly. He was pleased with himself, Castiel could tell.

“A mentor?”

“Yes, a mentor”.

Castiel could not really think about anyone needing, or wanting, his help. With anything really. He could teach, though he hated it, and he could write, and that was about it.

“To whom, if I may ask?” he said, warily. Cain chuckled at that. Not really a chuckle though, more like a dogs bark, yet amused.

“Well, I have used some of my precious spare time looking at some of our new full ride kids coming to greet us with their excellence this semester, and I have realized a lot of these kids do not really have the… perfect upbringing,” Cain said. He scratched a hand absently at the stubble on his chin. “Luckily enough, that have not in any way stopped them from doing exceptionally well in school, obviously, considering we are paying for their time here”. He looked at Castiel with a nostalgic smile. “Just like we did for you”.

Castiel returned the smile, eternally grateful for his years at Stanford and all that money he never would be able to afford, not even if he had been working full time during his studies. It was simply too much. He had worked his ass off for it, of course, his grades could hardly be any better, and Cain in the end had been the one doing the interview that eventually gave him the last spot left for a full scholarship. Though he knew Cain had his doubts, Castiel’s past in hand and his utter and complete lack of social activities (and social skills, though Cain did not know about that part at that point in time), but in the end, he took pity with him. At least, that is how Castiel saw it.

“What kind of upbringing then?” Castiel asked Cain, truly curious at that point. He was glad that these somewhat messed up kids managed to move past it, and that that accomplishment was honored in such a way. Cain opened his drawer, taking a bunch of documents out and leaving them in a pile on the desk, quickly closing the drawer. Castiel could have sworn he saw… no, he must have been mistaken. Castiel glanced down at the documents instead. There had to be at least ten different ones, the students’ names written on a pink post-it on each folder.

“Cain… I mean, sir, I cannot mentor ten young adults,” he said, shock apparent in his voice. The dean just barked once again.

“Oh my, Castiel, I have faith in you, but not that much faith,” he said, still barking. Castiel felt his shoulders fall down with relief. “No, I am just giving you one, and the others will be delegated to some of your colleagues, like Hannah for instance,” he said, now smiling. Castiel smiled in return, still a little queasy from the thought of attending ten people’s teenage problems during a semester. Not that he really knew which level of personal they were heading for here, but he could only think of his younger brother, Gabriel, and all his questions about sex and especially Castiel’s own sexual experiences. He almost made a rather unprofessional grimace, but Cain had extracted one of the folders and laid it down before Castiel, waiting to regain his attention. Castiel lifted it up, reading the small post-it.

“Samuel Winchester,” he read aloud, opening the file. He saw the picture of what looked to be a tall and lean young adult with semi-long dark hair and a boyish smile. It made Castiel smile as well. He wanted to keep reading, but Cain pointed to another post-it below the picture, bullet pointing the most important parts. Cain, always for efficiency.

“As you can see, and read, which you can do more of later, if you decide to do this,” and Castiel looked up at that, wondering if he actually had a say in the matter. “Samuel here is a straight A student, brilliant really, has a lot of extracurricular activities, including a book club, chess club, swimming. He has never worked, not even part time, but that is not a necessity here, we appreciate children focusing all their energy at school and other activities – children being children. I met with him a few days ago, and I can honestly say he seems to be a polite and attentive young man”. He stopped, smiling to the room, not really looking at anything. Castiel considered giving him a little wave to bring him back to the conversation, but suddenly he was on again.

“However,” he began, now suddenly more serious. “He has been in a few fights”. Castiel’s forehead wrinkled uneasily at that.

“At the giving or receiving end?” he asked Cain, looking down at the file again. Samuel did not seem like a bully in Castiel’s eyes. However, how could he know really?

“Both,” Cain said. “His previous school filed most of it under self-defense and/or defending others from being harassed”. Castiel smiled at that, which seemed to fit his rather uninformed first impression of Sam better. “Still, there is some aggression there, and I want to make sure he does not in any way take that with him, I do not want any fighting on school property. Except for the martial arts club, obviously.” Cain said proudly, and Castiel hummed in agreement, reading from the file.

“Oh,” Castiel exclaimed. “He is an orphan?” Cain’s eyes turned suddenly somber.

“Yes, quite sadly. House fire took his mom when Samuel was just a baby. His father must have had some trouble adapting. They moved around a lot, it truly is a wonder Samuel pulled through and got all his schoolwork done, changing cities and thereby schools up to four times a year until Samuel turned 15” Cain said, leaning back in the chair. Castiel looked at him.

“Then what?”

“Then his father killed himself,” Cain said, matter-of-factly. Castiel shivered, feeling a sudden chill to his bones. “And then they wound up in Kansas, where they lived up until now”.

“They?”

“Yes, sorry, Samuel has an older brother, Dean Winchester.” Cain pointed at another post-it in the file. “He is four years older, and became Samuel’s legal guardian when their father passed. I got the impression Samuel really looks up to the man, but he did not elaborate much. On anything really. Which is why I think this arrangement will be good for him!” Cain looked so pleased, Castiel could hardly say anything to that.

“What do you want me to do?” he said, defeated.

“Just talk to him”.

___________

Castiel found himself distracted from his writing once again, looking at Samuel Winchester file next to his computer, wondering if it would just spontaneously combust if he kept staring at it. He was internally praying the whole thing would be forgotten so he could return to his thesis. He already felt guilty about the fact that he did not have anything to say to this man. This man who, after a few formal email exchanges, was supposed to be at his office in – Castiel checked his watch – less than twenty minutes. He decided he might as well give up and sighed deeply, closing his computer. Hannah looked up at him from the desk across from him. Their office was cramped and full of dusty old books and paper flying around. Castiel had wanted to do something about the mess for, well, the last few years really. However, he was slowly realizing it was a lost cause, more and more books and documents piling up with each day.

“How are you doing over there, champ?” Hannah said, smiling with her fingers draped around her coffee mug, holding on for dear life to the only thing getting her, and Castiel himself, through that morning. Castiel only grunted in response, which made Hannah laugh.

“That bad, huh?”

Castiel sighed again. “No,” he said. “Well, yes, but no. What am I going to say to him, Hannah? Are we just going to make small talk? Talk about school? Art? Life? I hate small talk”. Hannah laughed at that.

“I hardly think ‘life’ is categorized under small talk,” she said, closing her own computer as well. Castiel through his hands in the air dramatically.

“My point exactly! I suck at this!”

Hannah smiled fondly, rising from her chair and walking over to him. She laid a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Just be yourself, Castiel,” she said. Castiel huffed at that, wondering when ‘being himself’ had led to any good in the past.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting? I can come back”. Castiel turned towards the door, seeing what had to be Samuel Winchester, tall as expected, standing in the doorway. He had a worn backpack over his shoulder and a gentle smile on his face. Castiel stood from his chair and walked towards the young man. He had to be at last three inches taller than Castiel, and he suddenly felt a little small, though he in age were superior by more than a decade. “You must be Samuel, it is nice to finally meet you in person. I am Castiel Novak”. They shook hands, Samuel smiling.

“Castiel, huh?” he said, and Castiel almost blushed.

“It is an…”

“Angel,” Samuel finished for him, surprising Castiel. “Yeah, I know”. They smiled at each other, and Castiel gestured towards the chair in front of his desk. Hannah grinned at Castiel, then gave Samuel a quick handshake and Castiel a wave before leaving, closing the door behind her.

“I did not mean to kick her out or anything,” Samuel said worried, looking after Hannah but Castiel just waved a hand dismissively, realizing how much that gesture reminded him of Cain. He must be rubbing of on him after all these years.

“Oh no, she knew you were coming, do not worry about it,” he said, pulling his laptop to the side to retrieve the documents from the ever-growing pile. “Honestly, she is rather glad that I am socializing with other people than herself”. Samuel smiled at that.

“Sure about that?” he said, winking at Castiel. Castiel never understood winking, trying to determine if this was a “joke” wink or a “you’re being dumb” wink. According to Anna, there was also a “flirtatious” wink. They even had an emoticon for it on his rarely used phone.

“Oh, I am positive,” Castiel responded simply, which he truly was, though he made a mental note to ask Hannah about the art of winking later. With all these mental notes he kept making, he probably should start writing it all down. He had a notebook for that. Somewhere. Another time though, he thought, opening the file and looking up at Samuel.

“Right, Samuel,” he began.

“Sam”.

“Sam… you don’t like your name?” Castiel asked, tilting his head. Samuel, Sam, laughed at that.

“Well, yes, but it’s a little formal, don’t you think?” he asked, grimacing. Castiel disagreed, disliking nicknames more than anything. It made it so hard, distinguishing a person from another when they all used nicknames, and often people had different nicknames for the same person, and no, it truly got confusing sometimes, especially in class, when he had more than enough remembering all their real names.

“Sam it is, then,” Castiel said, reviewing the file. “Right, I am not, in fact, a hundred percent sure what we actually should talk about,” he said, looking up at Sam with an excusing look. “I guess we could start with the basics? Work our way up from there?”

Sam just nodded. “Yeah, sure”.

Castiel nodded as well.

“Okay! Great. Uhm, do you, uhm, want to talk about anything in particular?” Castiel asked, earning a small laugh from the tall man in front of him. Castiel cursed himself for not writing more of the questions he thought about earlier down. He decided to change tactics. “How old are you?” Castiel said, fully aware of the answer to that question. But hey – small talk, right?

“I recently turned 22,” Sam said, smiling. “And you?”

Castiel jumped a little at that, not expecting a question in return. This was not about him after all.

“Uhm, I am 34,” he said, giving the younger man a short smile. “And your brother is 26 then?” he asked. He bit his lip. Well, so much for pretending he had not read and memorized the file from page to page. Sam did not seem to mind, though, a new light to his eyes at the mention of his brother.

“Yes, Dean. He is, 26,” Sam said, smiling genuinely. That was good, Castiel could work with that.

“What does your brother do?” he asked, pulling out his drawer for a pen and showed it to Sam. “Do you mind if I take some notes?”

Sam shook his head. “’spose not,” he said, probably unsure of what Castiel meant to do with them. Castiel was as well. “My brother, Dean, is a mechanic,” he said, still smiling. Castiel nodded.

“A mechanical engineer, then?” he asked, scribbling notes in the corners of the already filled papers in Sam’s file. Sam hesitated, and Castiel looked up at him.

“Ehm, no. Just… just a mechanic. He did not attend college,” Sam said, smiling, but more unsurely now. “Or high school”. Castiel’s eyebrows rose at that, though he lowered them quickly. They really had a life of their own.

“Oh,” he eventually got out. “That is… uncommon”. Sam gave him an annoyed look and Castiel quickly changed his statement. “Not uncommon as in wrong, Sam. I have been studying and working here for the last 15 years, it is just different. For me”. He swallowed and blushed at his own phrasing, realizing he was making this more personal than necessary. Sam seemed to understand and eased up a bit.

“Yeah, I get that,” he said. “A lot of my friends are the same way, though younger than you. I just get tired of defending him sometimes”. He huffed a little, uncrossing his previously crossed arms and he rested towards the back of the chair. Castiel nodded at that.

“Do you often feel a need to defend people?” he asked bluntly. Sam let out another small laugh, amused.

“Do I often feel the need to beat the shit out of people, you mean?” he asked, voice gruff, but still smiling. Castiel smiled in return.

“…Maybe?” he said after a while, earning another laugh for his hesitation.

“It’s okay, I know it’s your job and all. No, I do not, in fact, often feel the need to beat people up, nor defend people really. I just don’t like it when bad things happen to good people,” and Sam’s eyes hardened a little at that last statement. Castiel nodded once again.  
“I get that,” he said, smiling reassuringly. He had an epiphany then. “But,” he began. “If you, here at Stanford, happen to feel like someone… good, is being treated badly, then maybe – you can come to me?”

Sam narrowed his eyes, which almost made Castiel sigh, his good idea perhaps not being as good as he had hoped.

“I am not a professor, yet. I am a student, as yourself, even though I am somewhat older and have more years of studying behind me. I have been 22 and attending this university, just like you. I know the dos and don’ts,” he said, the last part being a total lie. Sam eased up a bit at that.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess you’re right. And okay, it’s a deal. I’ll come to you. If someone needs… defending,” Sam said, smiling again, and Castiel nodded appreciatively.

“Good! Now that that is settled, how come your brother never went to school?” Castiel wanted to talk more about their parents, but seeing how that might be a sore subject, he figured he could try easing into it, his brother seeming like the natural way to go. But Sam tensed up again at that.

“He worked,” he said, simply.

“With?”

“Many things”.

“As for example?”

“Fixing cars”.

“Even when you were moving around?” Castiel once again talked from the file and not Sam’s own words. Sam still did not seem to mind, yet was tense in his words of response.  
“Not as much, no,” he said.

“Then what did he do?” Castiel pressed, realizing he was doing just that, and Sam was as well.

“Does it matter?”

“Does it?”

The two men looked at each other, Castiel smiling and Sam squinting in return. Castiel somehow got the impression Sam did not picture Castiel being this way.

“What’s your thesis about?” Sam said then, and Castiel smiled brightly at that, his assumptions being right, which was rare and almost made him proud.

“I’m taking a doctorate in literature, on angels, actually, and before that, I took pre-law, which I know you did as well”. Sam smiled, and Castiel smiled in return.

“I could tell,” Sam said and Castiel nodded at that. He knew he could. Sam suddenly laughed, pulling his hands through his hair. “My brother worked a lot. Still does. For me. So I could go to college, so I could be here. Now.”

“But you got a full ride?” Castiel asked, leaning back as well, following Sam’s example. Sam nodded.

“I did, but I did not know that back then. I had more than enough just getting all my exams together and finishing up middle school”.

“Because you moved a lot?” Castiel said, noting this down, and Sam just nodded again. “I see. What about your dad, was he not capable of saving up money for your tuition?”

Sam hardened. Castiel could tell the second he did, once again praising himself for being this good at reading body language, something he never got the hang of during his law studies. Part of the reason he quit. Castiel leaned forward. “If you do not want to talk about it…,” he began, but Sam cut him off.

“John was an ass,” he said, hard. His voice fierce and eyes cold. Like he suddenly turned into a whole other person. “He wasn’t capable of anything, not for years. He gave me hell and Dean more, and he never earned a dime in his life. Dean earned it all”. Sam paused at that. “Every fucking thing,” he added. Castiel’s eyebrows were all over the place now.

“Not all legally, then?” Castiel asked warily. Sam smiled, but it was proud, not shamed.

“A lot of pool hustling,” the younger man said, releasing a withheld breath. “He, well, we,” he briefly stopped to see if Castiel was writing, and Castiel held his hands in the air, getting a satisfied nod from Sam before he continued: “We stole, occasionally. Dean hated it. Mostly he ran around, always taking small legit jobs, painting houses, fixing cars, but most people don’t need a ten year old’s help, and though it got better in his teenage years, people were skeptical. And I get that, I do. But I really hated seeing my own brother work his ass off to pay for groceries, shitty motel rooms and school stuff for me”. Sam got a pained expression in his eyes. “And alcohol for John so he could dim his shitty brain from watching his two sons grow up”.

Castiel did not really know what to say. He wanted to know more, but did not feel like pressing Sam further, and most of all, he was rather amazed by his brother Dean who gave up his own childhood for his brother, wondering if he would have done the same for Gabriel. He thought he would, but they never had the same bond. Perhaps the desperate situation made the Winchester brothers’ relationship stronger. Which was admirable in itself, people would break over less.

“It must have been really difficult,” Castiel said, eventually, when the silence between them started to feel pressing to Castiel. “Especially when your dad, ehm, passed”.

Sam just nodded at that, looking down at his own folded hands.

“Was it… was it pills?” Castiel asked, afraid he was taking it too far. “Did he take pills? When he killed himself?” Sam’s file had mentioned John overdosing.

Then Sam looked up.

“John didn’t kill himself. He thought he was taking his normal pain killers, but in all his drunkenness, he downed a whole bottle of sleeping pills, not even his own, and the fucker drowned in his own vomit, too passed out on pills and whiskey to wake up”.

The younger man smirked.

“He deserved it”.

\-------------

They met again the week after, and then again the week after that. Castiel still did not know exactly what his mission was, or what it was supposed to be, but Sam seemed happy just talking, ventilating about his asshole of a father (seriously, Castiel almost hated the man himself), the sadness over never knowing his mother, and the eternal pride in his voice speaking about his brother, Dean. They eventually talked more and more about school as the weeks pressed on, and they were slowly heading towards November. Though it never turned all that cold around Stanford, the wind was seeping in through the window in the small office. Sam always brought two cups of coffees for their ‘meetings’, which Castiel appreciated, figuring he would do the same the next time he was meeting with Cain. So far, Sam had not felt the need to ‘defend’ anyone, which Castiel didn’t find to surprising. Sam hung out with a nice crowd, he could tell. Sam began mentioning a girl named Jess - short for Jessica, surely, those damn nicknames - more frequently in their conversations. At first, Castiel politely pretended as if he did not notice, but eventually Sam asked for Castiel’s advice on how to approach the girl. Castiel, not having the best track record with dating, advised Sam to the best of his ability. Castiel felt like he was making a new friend, though he was fairly certain that was not Cain’s intention.

It was the last week of October and Sam came in for their regular Tuesday meeting. Hannah greeted the young man with a bright ‘hello’, before rising from her chair and walking out wordlessly with a grin in Castiel’s direction, who rolled his eyes at her in return. Castiel knew Hannah used her ‘free time’ to meet up with her current love interest, Raphael from the IT department. Like every Tuesday, Sam came in with two cups of… not coffee?

“It’s pumpkin spiced latte!” Sam exclaimed, laughing at the grimace on Castiel’s face. “Seriously dude, I know you’re ancient and all, but really?”

Castiel huffed at that. “I am not ancient,” he mumbled gruffly, sipping the way too sweet and too spicy (and too foamy) liquid in his paper cup. Sam just laughed.

“You’re just like my brother,” Sam said, rolling his eyes. “Never tries anything new”. Castiel smiled at that, figuring Dean was a man of his tasting. He looked up at Sam, glad he did not say that particular part aloud. Sam was far off already, a big smile on his face. “Speaking of!” he exclaimed, sitting further forward in his seat and Castiel almost shot his hand out to balance Sam’s paper cup. He wanted to make sure the gooey pumpkin thingy did not spill all over Sam’s folder, now neatly covered in Castiel’s notes. Castiel looked up at Sam, all annoyance set aside at the site of his puppy dog eyes.

“You have to come this weekend!” Sam said with the same high pitched and oh-so-happy voice as before. Considering their often dark and broody subjects, Sam’s own words, Castiel enjoyed seeing him like this. It reminded him of Gabriel, and he felt a sudden brotherly affection towards Sam. Except…

“Come? How? I mean, ehm, where?”

“To the Halloween party!”

Castiel paused at that, remembering something way, way back in his head about a party Sam had been talking about in one of their earlier meetings.

“…right, at you and your brother’s place, correct?” he said, the memory slowly returning, and Sam nodded.

“Yes! This Saturday, a lot of people from school are coming, Jess, and Dean of course, and some of Dean’s friends and work colleagues and, and, oh, it’s going to be really fun, you should be there!”

Castiel wanted to mention how “really fun” and himself rarely, if ever, were two and the same.

“I don’t know, Sam…,” he said, feeling like he was breaching some rule of professionalism.

“You said it yourself, you’re a student, you’re one of us! And I promise you won’t be the oldest, Benny will be there, he’s Dean’s friend and he is like… forty, or something, and they are all really nice!” Sam was really using those puppy-dog eyes for all their worth, and Castiel knew he had already lost when Sam said:

“Dean would really like to meet you”.

Castiel looked up at that.

“Why?” he asked, and Sam looked a little lost the very real tone of surprise in Castiel’s voice.

“Well, duh. ‘Cause you are a good guy, Castiel. And we’ve known each other for two months now, and I talk about you and our meetings with Dean”. Sam smiled timidly. “He really thinks you’re helping me,” he said, and something blossomed in Castiel’s chest at that. “He thinks I’m more… content, with everything, after I began talking to you. Way better than any shrink,” he said, adding that last part with one of those winks Castiel thought was a joking one.

“Maybe it is Miss Jessica that is making you all content,” Castiel said, giving Sam a wink in return, obviously failing, making Sam laugh.

“Maybe. Will you come?”

Castiel hesitated.

He would enjoy meeting the famous big brother. Mechanic Dean, a father figure to his younger brother by four years, with a 67 Chevy impala and a complete collection of Led Zeppelin on vinyl. And if the fact that he would be checking out a few of those albums at home after work meant anything other than pure curiosity, he could not tell.

“I’ll be there”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Seriously though. Emoticons can be hard. Winky face.


	2. The Demon (Ramble on)

“So, a party then?”

“Yes, that is the general idea”.

“But you never go to parties? You don’t even like them”.

“Yes, Hannah, thank you, I am aware”.

“Then why now?”

Castiel groaned tiredly while leaning towards the window frame. He was looking out at the leaves, falling down one by one from the big old oak tree in the university yard. He could barely see it from their office far east on campus. It was getting late Friday and a bunch of students, walking alone or side by side, were moving towards the bus stop, their cars, their homes, ready to take on the anticipated Halloween weekend that had been the big buzz on campus all week.

Truth is, he was not sure why he really wanted to go to this party of Sam’s (and Dean’s), and he had no clue, what so ever, what to wear, which he had already texted Sam about in frustration twice since Tuesday. Sam had been so kind to help Castiel with his messenger-app on his old Samsung, making it easier to send messages back and forth deciding when to meet. Castiel liked the emoticons. They were funny, though he had a hard time deciding what all of them really meant. Apparently, he had sent Sam one that he himself though was a “jokey wink”, which turned out to be what Sam called “The Netflix and chill wink”. Castiel decided against using more winky faces after that.

He really thought he had more time to prepare, but now he was at loss, even though he had been googling Halloween costumes all day, showing them of to Hannah and getting more than a few chuckles out of the brunette woman. “Dress up as a cowboy, or something!” Hannah had said laughing, when Castiel had shown her a particularly tight Superman costume that – oh, turned out be a woman’s costume. This was not a good idea.

 **3:13PM, Castiel:** Hello, Sam. I do not think this is a good idea. Castiel.

 **3:15PM, Sam:** Dude, stop finishing every sentence with your name, this is Facebook, your name and face pops up when you write!

 **3:17PM, Castiel:** Sorry, Sam. Castiel.

 **3:18PM, Castiel:** Sorry again.

 **3:20PM, Sam:** You are hopeless.

 **3:21PM, Castiel:** So I have been told.

 **3:22PM, Sam** : Still no costume, then?

 **3:24PM, Castiel:** I doubt I will be able to find anything by tomorrow. Maybe it is better if I just decline your offer.

 **3:26PM, Sam:** I will call you later and we will find something. Stop worrying about it! Just be at home and decent around 6PM, aiight?

 **3:28PM, Castiel:** I can do that.  

He put his phone down in his pocket and moved away from the window to sit down flatly in his chair. He began gathering his things. He might as well go home early, get some ideas (like that would happen) before Sam called.

“I could come with you?”

Castiel looked up at Hannah. She was smiling, looking slightly embarrassed while wrapping her hair around one of her fingers in what Castiel thought was a nervous gesture. Castiel did not really see any reason for her too be nervous. They had known each other for the last ten years, they kind of passed nervous a while back. He probably read her wrong, which happened regularly after all.

“Home?” Castiel asked, a little surprised. Hannah had never been to his apartment before. They had been to her place on several occasions, making dinner and watching a movie, but Castiel preferred his privacy, and well, his apartment was not much, really. Hannah’s parents had a lot of money, her mother Naomi being quite the feisty woman. Almost scary in Castiel’s opinion. Their rather accomplished daughter therefore got more than necessary to make it through her unpaid days of studying, and had bought herself a nice apartment in the ‘better side of town’, as Anna used to say, or like Gabriel said: ‘That area without any strip clubs’.

Hannah laughed at that, rolling her eyes at him and looking more at ease.

“No, I know you don’t take people home,” she said and winked at him. “I meant to the party!” She glanced up at him. Castiel appreciated her understanding his lack of willingness to except any guests, it had made her feel a little weird at first, joking about the skeletons in his closets. Castiel had a lot of things ‘in his closet’ as the saying was, but definitely no skeletons. She eventually accepted that he should have his privacy without her suggesting he was a serial killer, and they had been friends ever since.

“Oh, I see. Wouldn’t that be a little inappropriate?” he asked her, packing his documents and laptop down. He pulled the strap of his black and yellow striped handbag, a gift from Anna, over his shoulder. Hannah stuck out his tongue at him, which made Castiel roll his eyes at the childish gesture. “I mean, not that I do not want to hang out, but you know. I do not know anyone there”.

“You know Sam?” she said with a high-pitched voice, and she blushed. Oh, Castiel could see where this was coming from. He smirked at her.

“So, it did not work out between you and Raphael, then, I presume?” he said, and she blushed even fiercer now, but then it turned into a grin. Castiel chuckled at her. Hannah was always jumping from one person to the next, never able to settle down or be alone for a while. Castiel had been by himself for so long, he found Hannah’s constant change of lovers rather tiring.

“Yes, but no one else. This is, or I think it is, Sam’s way of trying to help me make new acquaintances, and if that is the case, it would be rather weird for me to invite someone else to acquaint with the same acquaintances. I feel like it is not my place”. He smiled at her. “Another time?”

She huffed, but her smile was still wide and slightly mocking.

“Yeah yeah, guess I’ll find someone else to play with,” she said, and grinned once more before returning to her desktop. Castiel nodded, satisfied at their conclusion and walked towards the door. He opened it and walked out into the long corridor with offices on each side as Hannah yelled after him:

“Send pictures!”

____

He was pacing back and forth, watching a set of clothes, his whole closet really, thrown onto his small bed, realizing he did not have all that many pieces of clothing in the first place. He wore the same long shirts with the same warm sweaters and simple jeans or black slacks day after day, never needing anything else. He had a suit, rarely used, if ever, and that was it. Nothing similar to a costume. Sam had told him to be creative, ‘think outside the box’, which was a phrase Castiel never really felt comfortable with, not seeing his own brain as a box, and not understanding how to think ‘outside’ of it. He sighed, slowly giving up – once again – when his phone vibrated fiercely in his pocket. He pulled it out of his jeans, seeing a picture of Sam and the words ‘video call waiting’ under it. Oh, this would be fun. He pressed the green telephone button, answering his friend and mentee’s call, feeling like he was being the one being mentored most days. After some scratching noises and the screen blinking black a few times, Sam’s long hair and big smile came into view.

“Hi!” Sam exclaimed, smiling wider at Castiel’s evident confusion, not really able to focus on Sam and more on his own small image up in the corner of his cell. He wrinkled his nose at the view, and returned his eyes to Sam.

“This is weird,” he said, simply, which made Sam chuckle.

“Yeah, not used to skyping, huh?” Sam said. Castiel nodded at that.

“I see the only people I feel like talking to on a regular basis, and if I need to speak with them more, I just call. Alternatively, text. Preferably text.” He was not big on phone calls, hating the need to interpret emotions based on someone’s tone of voice. Sam chuckled some more.

“I get that. Now, let’s see what you got!” he exclaimed, camera moving around for a bit while Sam got seated somewhere. It looked like a couch. He probably was in his own living room, Castiel thought, looking forward to seeing the brothers’ apartment the next day. As his own, Sam had pointed out its small size on several occasions, explaining the lack of money to buy something bigger, which Castiel understood from his own experience, reassuring Sam he had nothing to worry about. Castiel was, and would never be, one to judge. He did, however, feel like their apartment would be more personal than his own. Beside from the four different shelves of books, two in his bedroom and two in the living room, Castiel was not big on personal items. He always wanted to put something up on his walls, but except for a few pictures of Gabe and Anna on his nightstand, he never got around to it.

“Ehm, okay,” Castiel said, turning his phone around, trying to aim the camera at the pile of clothes.

“Turn off selfie mode,” Sam said.

“Whatmode?”

“The camera button in the corner of your screen”. Castiel pressed it, and the small image of him in the other corner turned to an image of the bed before him. Castiel smiled at that.

“Good! Okay, this is all your stuff?” Sam asked, and Castiel nodded, realizing Sam could not see him anymore and answered a verbal yes as well. “Seriously?” Sam said then, and Castiel sighed a bit.

“I am not really… experimental, in the clothing department,” Castiel said, Sam huffing.

“I can see that,” the young Winchester said, amusement apparent in his voice. “Don’t you have any t-shirts?”

“I get cold easily,” he auto piloted, used to explaining that distinct fact to people, especially during summer time. Sam just shrugged at that.

“Well, at least I see your problem now, and it’s not just a lack of creativity,” Sam said, a small excuse in his tone for bullying Castiel about it all week.

“I could always buy something,” Castiel said, but Sam shook his head at that.

“Dude, no, don’t make a big deal about it. I’m sure you won’t be the only one not bothering with a costume. Do you have a black shirt? Oh yeah, that one by the pillow. Take that and some black slacks. Do you have any makeup?”

Castiel thought about it for a second.

“…Should I have makeup?” he asked warily, and Sam laughed again.

“Nah, just if your sister had left some, or maybe a lady friend of yours”. Another ‘jokey wink’. Castiel huffed at that.

“I can ask Anna to come by,” he said, and Sam smiled.

“Make her put some eyeliner on you, or dark eye shadow or something,” the other man said, apparently hearing a noise or something as his attention turned to the side of the screen for a second.

“And what will I be then?” Castiel asked, holding up his only black shirt. Sam turned towards the screen again.

“Cool,” he said, grinning wide. Castiel chuckled in return, when he heard another man’s voice over the phone, somewhat muted by the distance, but still easily heard.

“Sammy, have you seen my keys?”

Dean. His voice was gruff, sort of husky and dark, but not intimidating or mad.

“The kitchen,” Sam said, not looking away from the screen, still smiling at Castiel – or at Castiel’s shirt, really, phone still on not-selfie mode.

“I’ll be at the Roadhouse, call if you need anything,” Dean said a second later, having retrieved his keys, or so Castiel assumed, and a door shut in the background.

“That was Dean,” Sam said simply. Castiel nodded, once again realizing Sam couldn’t see him, and he pressed the selfie camera, image returning to Castiel’s face.

“What is ‘the Roadhouse’?” he asked Sam. The younger man smiled at him in return.

“You really don’t go out much, huh?”

_____

“The Roadhouse is a bar,” Anna said, pulling out her makeup from a small purse, piece by piece, eyeing them and dividing it all into two piles which Castiel could only assume was the ‘use’ and ‘don’t use’ piles. “It’s not far from the university, really, surprised you missed it”.

Castiel was not. He took the bus to work every day, eyes burrowed in some book, and then he did the same going home. He ran every morning, that Saturday not being any exception. However, he always ran in the other direction, not needing to see the university more than necessary. He ran through the city and some parks, taking a quick turn through the woods and always stopping to catch his breath by a small and rarely visited lake, watching the morning sun reflected on the water surface. Then he ran home, and those were his days. Mostly.

“You ready?” Anna smiled at him, having put the ‘don’t use’ pile back in her purse, and the other pile was lined up in front of her. Castiel looked at it with some worriedness.

“What is all this?” he asked, looking back up at his older sister, her eyes sparkling with amusement and her fiery red hair looking even redder in contrast with her pale skin, the skin being an unfortunate family trait.

“Eyeliner, eye shadow and mascara,” she said, grinning. “I’m going to make you look _so_ cool”.

And that is how Castiel found himself half an hour later, dressed up in his outfit, black shirt, arms down, but unbuttoned in the front. Anna had insisted on unbuttoning a fourth, but Castiel hardly felt comfortable with the three already open ones, and they held it at that. Black jeans, a little tight around the thighs, his running muscles being evident (“Hot!” Anna exclaimed at that, making her brother blush and grimace at the same time), and black leather shoes. His eyes were dark, really dark, and the blue of his own irises became clearer against the black surrounding them.

“I look like a raccoon,” he said, skeptically, but Anna just shook her head at that.

“You look smoking, little brother,” she said, matter-of-factly, still grinning largely at the site of him. “I do feel like something is missing, though”. Castiel turned away from the mirror, looking at his older sister by three years. She still looked so young in his opinion, only a few small wrinkles apparent in the corner of her eyes when she smiled at him.

“I am leaving in thirty minutes, if anything needs to be done, it needs to be done now,” he said. Sam had told him to take the bus to the third last stop on the route towards the school and beyond that, taking Castiel somewhere he could not remember being before, even though he had lived in California his entire life. It was almost an hour long bus ride, leaving Castiel with plenty time to calm himself down, thinking of how long it had been since he last met this many new people at once. Sam had talked about around 30 different invited people, and Castiel huffed at the thought, even after trying to memorize all their names and back stories that Sam had mentioned that same Tuesday he invited him. Of course, Sam did not know them all either, so why Castiel felt obliged to, he did not really know. Anna had left the bathroom, Castiel not even noticing, and he finished up, brushing his teeth and checking them for spots. He pulled a hand through his hair, trying to pet it down, but it kept standing up in all directions. Anna said it made ‘the look’ even better, so Castiel just shrugged and left it at that, going downstairs to find his shoes. He held up his familiar beige trench coat, considered putting it on, but decided against it. He was not supposed to be himself tonight, after all. He pulled his shoes on, checking his pockets for keys, cell and wallet, and looked up at the old clock on the wall. Five minutes.

“Anna, leaving!” he yelled up at her, as he heard her footsteps tripping lightly down the stairs, holding a big… something.

“What _is_ that?” Castiel exclaimed shocked, looking rather puzzled at the large black feathery thing Anna was carrying under her left arm. She grinned at him.

“Wings!” she said loudly, smiling and pulling it up for Castiel to see. They were wings indeed, and large ones as well, bound together at the middle. Castiel looked at it in amazement, walking towards Anna and touching the black feathery garment.

“Where did you get this?” he asked, feeling the gentle warmth of the light material. Anna made a grimace at that.

“One of mother’s old jackets. I remembered it suddenly and found it in one of the stored away boxes upstairs. The ones they sent us. I assumed you wouldn’t mind”. Castiel really did not mind. He had not looked at those in ages. He looked up at his sister, stretching out a hand and squeezing her forearm gently.

“It is amazing,” he said, earning a proud smile from Anna. “How did you manage this?”

Her smile faltered a bit. “I made one for Michael, for a school play. You know, before”. She looked down, and Castiel pinched her arm a little tighter, making her tilt her head up to look at him.

“Thank you,” he said, smiling gratefully and pulling her in for a hug.

\--------

Why did he agree to do this? Stupid idea, real stupid, he was going to make a fool of himself. Stupid costume, stupid Halloween, stupid Sam for inviting him, and…

“Castiel! Hi, I’m so glad you could make it!” Sam pulled him in for a bear hug, their first, in fact. Castiel did not take Sam for a big hugger, but seeing the slightly glassy look in his eyes, he figured young Samuel had had a few too many to drink already. Castiel chuckled.

“You in a good mood, Sam?” he asked, and Sam grinned down at him.

“Jess is here,” Sam said. “She looks absolutely _ravishing,_ you won’t miss her,” he babbled, grinning wider at the thought of his crush, and Castiel patted his arm lightly.

“I do not doubt it for a second,” he said, easing up a bit at Sam’s casualness. “You look good”.

Sam was dressed up as what Castiel assumed was a knight of some sorts, not being certain, but he guessed it might have something to do with Lord of the rings, or perhaps Game of thrones, having read both book series but never watched the movies or the show. Sam punched him lightly in the shoulder, though Sam’s attempt at ‘lightly’ actually hurt quite a bit.

“Yeah, you think? I hope Jess likes it. You look great as well, love the wings, Anna made them?” Sam asked, and Castiel nodded. “Huh, nice. You’re like a fallen angel or something”. Fallen angel. It sounded right to Castiel’s ears. Sam’s eyes suddenly brightened. “Hey! Like your name! The angel name!” Castiel laughed.

“Yes, I have been meaning to ask you about that actually, how did you know? Are you religious?” Castiel asked, and Sam barked loudly at that, a few heads turning their way and some of them glancing Castiel up and down, checking out his outfit. Or him. Or both.  

“Hardly,” Sam said. “I stopped believing in a god a long time ago. If there truly was a god, or the God, I think he would’ve treated us better, wouldn’t you say?” His words slurred a little, but the resentment in his voice was obvious, making Castiel wonder what was the last straw that destroyed Sam’s previous faith for good. Suddenly Sam seem to realize his own bluntness and his eyes snapped down to Castiel. “Oh, dude, I’m sorry, that was so rude, I completely spit on your own beliefs, and…” Castiel interrupted him.

“I am not a believer, Sam,” Castiel said, reassuringly, giving the larger man a small smile. Sam seemed surprised at that, and Castiel quickly decided to change the subject. “Now introduce me to this wonderful Jessica of yours”. Castiel did not push the subject, leaving his own question unanswered for now. Sam, once again as happy as the young puppy dog he is, guided him through the crowd, saying hello to a few people along the way and shaking hands with some of them (Pamela, Garth and Sarah, Castiel memorized), before stopping in front of a beautiful curly blonde, tall and slim.

“Jess!” Sam exclaimed, as if seeing her for the first time this evening, which according to the look on Jessica’s face was not, in fact, true. Luckily, she only laughed at him and turned to Castiel, smiling. She was wearing a nurse costume, the ‘naughty’ kind. Castiel had seen a few of those during his intensive google search the previous day.

“You must be Castiel, I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said, taking his outstretched hand and shaking it firmly. Castiel smiled at that.

“I have heard a lot about you as well, only good things, but you probably already knew that”. They both looked up at Sam, still smiling with adoration down at Jessica, a hand planted firmly on her lower back. She stepped closer to him.

“You have to excuse my _boyfriend_ , he was a little nervous about asking me to let him be exactly that and drank a beer or five before I showed,” Jessica said flatly, but smiling warmly up at Sam. “I still said yes, though”. The affection was obvious in her tone. Sam turned to Castiel, still smiling as if he just discovered the stars for the first time, and Castiel had a feeling he saw just that in Jessica’s eyes.

“She did, she’s my girlfriend now,” he said lazily, and Castiel laughed at the younger man’s dumfounded expression.

“Congratulations then,” Castiel said, smiling at the couple, already deciding they seemed to fit each other quite well, when another man suddenly turned up beside him.

“What are we celebrating and will there be champagne?” the man said, voice gruff and strong, grinning wide and winking at Jessica. He did a clicking noise with his tongue, making the blonde laugh.

“Dean,” she said, warningly but happily, still laughing at the man’s flirtatious look and Sam’s gruff in return, the larger man also smiling though. The man, Dean, laughed as well, a much warmer noise, different from his tone of speaking. Castiel, discreetly, gave the other man a long glance up and down. He was wearing simple jeans, boots and a shirt the color of red wine, folded up in the arms and unbuttoned the whole way down, covering a black t-shirt. His hair was sandy brown, or dirty blonde, or something just in between, his skin tan and freckles covering his face, making Castiel wonder if they occupied other parts of his body as well, not wanting to stare down at his forearms again.

His eyes, however, were pitch black.

“I’m just saying, Jess, you still got a chance with the better Winchester if you want it, just say the word – Sammy here probably wouldn’t even notice right about now,” Dean said, punching his brother lightly in the chest with a closed fist, earning another huff from Sam, but he only smiled gratefully and pulled Jessica closer under his arm. Jessica just rolled her eyes at Dean.

“I’ll take my chances with this one,” she said happily, Dean smiling like that was exactly the words he wanted to hear.

Then the man looked at him, or so Castiel assumed, not really knowing where his pupils were actually pointing behind the dark sclera lenses, but the man’s head was turned in Castiel’s general direction. He was a bit taller then Castiel, though only by a little, and much broader over the shoulders. Castiel once again felt small, standing between the two Winchesters.

“You must be Cas,” Dean said, holding out an arm, which Castiel took, feeling the warmth of the other man’s hand, large and rough. A mechanics hand.

“Castiel,” Castiel said. “And yes, that would be me”. Dean smiled a little crookedly at that.

“Right, I’m Dean. Sam’s older brother. He talks about you. A lot,” Dean said, smirking up at Sam. Sam, however, was getting more and more occupied with Jessica’s lips. Dean let out an appalled sound. “He finds a girl, and suddenly, I’m not worth his time anymore,” he said, sighing dramatically. Castiel’s eyebrows pinched together at that.

“I’m sure he doesn’t think that way,” Castiel said, defending Sam’s – to him obvious – affection towards his older brother, and Dean’s eyes – or head, at least – turned back to Castiel, another crooked smile pursing his lips. Oh, he was joking. Castiel hesitated, wanting to laugh it off, but Dean changed the subject, leaving him feeling a little dumb.

“I like your costume,” Dean said. He reached out a hand, touching Castiel’s feathery wings, smiling. “Castiel, the angel of solitude, temperance and tears”. He said it with a concentrated pinch of his forehead, as if he was reciting from a book. His brows furrowed a bit as well. “I thought it was supposed to be ‘Cassiel’, not Castiel?” Dean asked, looking curious and quite serious really, surprising Castiel from answering right away, once again baffled by the two brothers’ unanswered knowledge of angels, or angel names anyway. Dean smiled at him again, still openly curious.

“Well yes, you’re correct,” Castiel began, eyeing the other man with equal curiosity himself. “My father, however, thought ‘Cassiel’ to be a little to girly, and changed the name certificate to ‘Castiel’ without my mother knowing. He was afraid I would be bullied, people calling me Cassie and such,” he admitted, tone flat, and Dean smirked at that.

“Nice,” he exclaimed. “Cool dad”. Castiel huffed. Hardly.

“It did not really make a difference,” he said, crossing his arms, Dean looking at him still, smirk intact.

“Oh?” he asked, and Castiel half-smiled at him.

“They still called me Cassie”. That made Dean laugh, loudly and happily, like a moment before with Jessica and Sam. Castiel enjoyed the sound, watching the black eyes crinkle slightly in the corners as they closed in amusement. Castiel was wondering if Dean, like his younger sibling, had been drinking, but he seemed conscious enough. It was not as he could tell from the look in his eyes.

“I guess we’re enemies, then,” Dean said, crossing his arms at Castiel, mimicking him. Castiel flinched a little at the words.

“How come?” he asked warily, but Dean just pointed between them.

“Angel, demon, we’re like mortal enemies. Right, Cas?” Castiel let out a small breath he had not noticed holding in, and smiled at the other man.

“I guess so,” Castiel said. “Though me being a fallen angel probably means I have done something horrific to be thrown down from heaven in such a way. Maybe we are more alike than you think”.

Dean smirked once more, and Castiel could not help but feel like Dean was sizing him up, like Castiel had himself done to the other man a few minutes before.

“Maybe,” he said, chewing the word in his mouth. “You want to meet some of the others?”

Castiel swallowed roughly, and Dean could probably see the hesitation on his face, giving Castiel a somewhat gentle smile. It looked like he wanted to say something, but Castiel himself realized he, as the 34 year old man he was, could not, or should not, be so intimidated by the thought of meeting a few new people, so he said:

“I would. But I would like a drink first”.

And Dean nodded at that, waving a hand, leading Castiel to the small kitchen at the other side of the entrance. Next to the kitchen was a closed door, probably one of the brothers’ bedroom. Castiel wondered if he would find all of Dean’s Led Zeppelin records in there, or maybe the large chessboard Sam had told him about from his earlier chess club days. According to Sam, he had been rather talented, not that Sam used so many words, but he had won several competitions. Castiel had not played in years.

“What’s your poison?” Dean asked, sitting down on his heels in front of the fridge, looking back at Castiel.

Not alcohol, Castiel thought.

“What can you offer?” he responded.

“Beer, wine, vodka, whiskey…” Dean recited, but Castiel interrupted him.

“Whiskey. Thanks”.

Dean did not say anything for a second, just continued to look back at Castiel before rising. “Whiskey it is then, straight to the hard stuff”.

Castiel did not respond to that, not sure if Dean meant it as a good or a bad thing, or even a purely neutral thing, but he took a glass from the top cabinet and poured a rather large glass of Jack Daniel’s.

“Ice?” he asked, not looking at Cas.

“No, thank you”.

Dean handed him the glass of the stronger liquor. “Shall we then?” he asked, not waiting for an answer and heading out into the living room once more.

Castiel got to meet a lot of people, and that was not an understatement. Some of them seemed really nice, like the sweet redhead called Charlie, which Castiel assumed was not her real name. She, however, had fallen flat for Castiel’s own name, a reaction Castiel really was not used to, and she practically bounced up and down because “That’s so freakin’ cool, dude! You’re an angel!”, and then she punched him in the arm. Dean had grinned with amusement the entire conversation, and Castiel figured this was how Charlie was all the time, not only while being intoxicated. Dean also introduced him to Benny, short for Benjamin, a tall and broad man with a southern accent and a wide smile. Castiel learned that he bartended down at the Roadhouse, completely appalled by the fact that Castiel had not been there yet living in California for so long. “You have to take him!” Benny had ordered Dean, and Dean had smiled at Castiel. “We can manage that, ain’t that right, Cas?” he had said, and Castiel had smiled gratefully in return.

Others were, not _not_ nice, but a little… interesting. Ash, short for Asher, had a mullet and a half-fulfilled education from MIT, being kicked out for ‘fighting’, though Castiel had a feeling that was not the only reason. He currently worked at Roman Enterprises with Charlie, both spending more time hacking into the systems without being noticed then actually doing their jobs. “We’re always watching you. Even when you don’t have your cellphone on, or computer, or iPad, we can still see you,” Ash had said, eyebrows high and voice low. Dean had just chuckled, probably half at Ash and half at Castiel’s unsure expression. “I will keep that in mind,” Castiel had said, Dean dragging him further into the room with a strong hold on his upper arm. He also met Kevin, the weirdest Asian kid, looking chronically stressed and wide-eyed, giving Castiel a five-minute monologue of all the things he needed to do by next Friday. At the end of the conversation, Castiel had gotten so stressed out himself, he needed to mentally check all his weekly requirements to make sure he had not forgotten anything. He hadn’t.

Castiel was in the middle of a rather interesting conversation with the biggest fangirl he had ever met, a blond name Becky, probably short for Rebecca. Castiel got so confused with all these nicknames flying around. He suddenly realized Dean was not by his side anymore. He felt himself tense a little at that, not really sure why. The conversation was being easy enough without Dean there to guide him, but somehow he still felt a bit claustrophobic in the cramped living room that got warmer and warmer with each second.

“I need another drink,” he said, suddenly, interrupting a surprised Becky mid-sentence.

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “You can just serve yourself in the kitchen, the Winchesters don’t mind”.

So he did, thanking Becky for the advice and pushing himself through the crowd of the people dancing, laughing and some even kissing (borderline groping). The kitchen was, luckily, empty, and Castiel grabbed the bottle of whiskey from earlier and poured himself another glass, downing half of it one large swallow, and then filling it again. He felt himself swaying a little, the buzz slowly getting to him. It was welcomed.

And then it was not.

Castiel hardly remembered his last time drinking, a few months maybe. Must have been the summer party, finishing up his third year at his doctorate. Castiel didn’t mind drinking, never had a problem with getting too wasted, and he didn’t really have any embarrassing drinking stories to share. Somehow, though, his own limitations had either been reduced with age or he had poured more glasses of whiskey then he could remember. What he did know, with the uttermost certainty, was that the room was not supposed to be spinning this way. It was getting late, some had already left, and the remaining were mostly resting and talking, except a few lone dancers. He saw Charlie on the sofa, lying up against a pretty blonde Castiel hadn’t met. Charlie was gesticulating wildly, while the blonde was playing with the redhead’s hair. He saw Sam and Jessica dancing a slow waltz, and a rather poorly one, in the middle of the floor, others yelling at them in encouragement. Then he saw Dean, his hand planted on the shoulder of a beautiful tan, dark haired woman, with brown eyes and a slim figure. She was smiling at Dean, tugging on his shirt. She looked a little buzzed as well, though who were Castiel to judge. Dean was talking, looking concentrated, when the brunette rose to her feet and planted a kiss directly on the older Winchester’s lips, Dean’s hand falling to her waist, and that was when Castiel truly felt the too many glasses of whiskey deciding to take their way upwards again. He spun around where he stood, eyes on the locked door next to the kitchen. He headed straight for it. It was open, thank god, and he ran through and straight towards a desk and the trash can next to it and… it all came flying out of him in a few strong pulses.

And then it became dark.

He felt himself being nudged carefully in the back a few seconds later, the person groaning annoyed. Castiel opened his eyes slowly at that, having some trouble, as if his muscles didn’t really feel like cooperating. Still pitch black.

“Cas, you okay?” a voice said. Another nudge in his back.

Not pitch black, then. From what Castiel could see through squinting eyes, Dean was hovering above him, trying to get him up into a seating position, and that’s when Castiel realized he was still lying on the floor next to the bucket. Which meant the groaning sound probably came from himself. And oh, that was not a pleasant smell. He felt himself needing to vomit again.

“Ookay, come one, arm around my neck,” Dean said, gruffly and orderly. Castiel grunted.

“Sleep. Want to. Sleep,” he groaned hoarsely, coughing a little. Dean pulled him of the ground with a much greater force than Castiel had anticipated, feeling a little dizzy were his feet were barely touching the ground as Dean guided him by the waist toward another door inside the room Castiel hadn’t notice in his need to bid farewell to the whiskey no longer occupying his stomach.

“Vomit first, sleep later,” Dean said, opening the door with his free hand. Another bathroom, small, but with a cramped not-sex-friendly shower, a toilet and a sink with one single cabinet beneath it. Dean helped Castiel to the ground and Castiel put both his hands on the toilet seat, looking back at Dean with a pained expression.

“Do your thing,” Dean said, simply, turning his head away from the older man, but not leaving the room. And so Castiel did. He found himself being somewhat impressed by the never-ending stream of vomit that just wouldn’t stop filling up each time he felt like he was done. By the time he felt like an entire week of food had gone flushing down the drain, he felt hollow and so, so tired.

He promptly sat down on the ground next to the toilet and looked up at Dean, who was smiling tiredly at him in return.

“Better, Cas?”

Castiel yawned loudly, a thought slowly gathering in the back of his mind of how Dean had been calling him Cas all evening, and he’d hardly even noticed.

“Better, Dean”.

And then he dozed off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I assume I don't need to point out how 'Demon Dean' looks just like he did in season 10. You know, crazy hot.


	3. The Savior (Over the hills and far away)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some talk of past abuse and self-harming.

Castiel woke from the weirdest dream, but like often with dreams, had trouble piecing it together as he stretched in bed and rolled over and…

“Whoah!”

He caught himself just in time, almost falling out of the bed, but grabbing on to the nightstand beside him kept him up straight. He quickly sat up.

This was not his bed.

His bed was fairly larger, really.

Moreover, his room was definitely not plastered with posters of some known and some unknown bands, not really saying too much considering Castiel’s lack of interest in music. His walls was also not in any way painted green.

Then last night came back to him, and he fell back into the bed, groaning and using his own hands to cover his face. He felt like shit.

He didn’t feel better rising from the bed, seeing the stain of vomit on the rug beneath him, yet clearly smelling the bleach desperately used in an attempt to scrub it clean. He had to buy Dean a new one.

He staggered himself on lazy legs towards the bathroom, also scrubbed clean, luckily no evidence left behind as the bathroom tiles were somewhat easier cleaning up. The smell of vomit still clearly in the air though, Castiel fully aware that it would be plastered to him wherever he went up until the point he got home to take a long, warm shower. Preferably, one he would never return from.

He looked at the pathetic sight that was himself in the bathroom mirror. His makeup was scrubbed out onto his cheeks and forehead, making the dark rings under his eyes even darker. Hair ruffled and lips chapped, clearly dehydrated.

He didn’t have a shirt on.

He cried out a little at that.

Dark jeans still intact, Dean probably too embarrassed or grossed out to remove them, personal limits and all, but his wings and shirt had been removed before Dean had… Castiel groaned once more. Dean had fucking carried him to bed.

He sighed at the image looking back at him. Lean and strong, looking even leaner now that all fluid seemed to have left his body, Castiel really didn’t feel all that insecure about his own physical appearances. If it hadn’t been for the dozen upon dozen of old and newer scars painting a self-reflecting painting of Castiel’s not so mentally stable years, covering his arms and standing out against his pale skin, Castiel wouldn’t have a problem with Dean seeing him shirtless.

The fact that he did, though, made him have a huge problem with it. Really huge. He felt cold, suddenly, desperately wanting that shower, but at the same time not feeling prepared to walk out into the living room, meeting Sam or Dean, or both, explaining himself and probably never speaking to anyone of them ever again.

He went back into Dean’s bedroom, seeing a pile of clothes on the desk that he hadn’t noticed walking into the bathroom. Some socks, sweatpants and a long armed shirt with a picture of four hairy men with instruments and the name ‘Lynyrd Skynyrd’ beneath it. Castiel vaguely remembered hearing of them. He looked at the blue post-it taped to the shirt.

_Shower, you’ll need it. Coffee in the top drawer. Wake me and I’ll show you my true demon powers. – Dean._

Castiel huffed at it, reading the note once more. He didn’t seem all that mad, if anything. Castiel once again looked at the clothes, eyeing the long-sleeved shirt, wondering if Dean had given it to him on purpose. It was a nice gesture anyway. He wondered where his own clothes, from the night before, had gone, stepping out of his jeans and briefs, taking the last to the bathroom with him, washing it gently in the sink and hanging it over the door to dry. He entered the shower, blissfully humming at the warm water caressing his cold, sweaty skin, turning it pink and seeing his scars blend more easily with the remaining, untouched skin on his for- and upper arms.

Though he wished to stay in the shower and never, ever, leave, he eventually did. Finding a towel in the cabinet beneath the sink, drying himself up. He pulled a hand through his damp hair, untamable as ever. He wrapped the still slightly wet briefs in the towel, trying to absorb some of the remaining water, but it still felt a little sticky against his skin when he pulled them on. Oh well, the alternative being going au natural in Dean’s sweats, he’d survive a little stickiness. He took the rest of the clothes from the desk, putting them on and enjoying the safety of long sleeves against his forearms, tugging a little at them so they went even further up towards his hands.

“Time to face the demon,” he whispered to himself, sighing and opening the door towards the living room.

He felt weird, walking around in what he himself would consider ‘cozy clothing’, socks and no shoes, in the apartment of a recent friend and his brother which was practically a stranger to Castiel, but still had managed to help Castiel in one of his most embarrassing moments so far in life.

Now that the place was deprived of people, he truly could see how Sam had not been joking about it being small. Castiel had trouble seeing its size for what it truly was, people covering every square inch of the place, but it really wasn’t that big of a place. It was, however, as Castiel anticipated, full of pictures, personal items, movies, records and video games next to the television Castiel hadn’t even noticed the night before. Next to the television were three shelves, all occupied by greying pictures of what Castiel could tell was Sam and Dean as much, much younger, as well as several pictures of a beautiful blonde woman, even older, which Castiel assumed to be their mother, Mary Winchester. There wasn’t any pictures of John, though Castiel could have sworn he had seen one last night, noticing the similarities between him and the youngest Winchester. Something Sam probably wouldn’t enjoy hearing.

A small grunt came from behind him, and he turned around abruptly. He saw the figure of Dean Winchester lying sprawled out on the couch with a blanket over him, too small for his long legs that was currently draped over the side of the couch. His eyes were closed, but it almost looked like he was murmuring.

Castiel smiled at the sight, remembering the note and walked silently towards the kitchen. Like Dean had written, he easily found the coffee in the top drawer and decided to make a whole can of it, not doubting both Dean’s nor Sam’s need for coffee at this point. He smiled a little at the thought of the youngest Winchester and Jessica from the night before, and glanced out the kitchen door toward the room on the other side of the couch, quite certain there was a bed in there currently occupied by a large man and his newly announced girlfriend.

He was leaning against the kitchen sink, looking out the window at the small garden two stores down, humming to himself as he waited for the coffeemaker to stop dripping.

“Too early in the morning for humming, Cas,” a gruff voice said behind him, making Castiel turn around. Dean was standing in the doorway, shirtless and wearing identical sweatpants to Castiel’s own borrowed ones. His hair was ruffled, though not nearly the same degree of chaos as Castiel’s own. Castiel didn’t really notice any of this, though, as he was staring at Dean’s face.

“Your eyes are green,” he announced bluntly, blushing a little, though not looking away. Dean let out a small huff.

“What did you expect? Black to be my natural color?” Dean winked at him. He walked past the other man, extracting two mugs from the lowest cabinet and he gave one of them to Castiel. He took the coffee can in his other hand and filled his own mug first and Castiel’s second.

“Put your own oxygenmask on first, before assisting others, isn’t that how they say it?” Dean asked, not expecting an answer, taking a large sip from the scolding coffee. Castiel just nodded at that. Dean went wordlessly back into the living room, slouching down on the couch once again. Castiel followed, though did not help himself to sit down next to the older Winchester before Dean himself gesticulated towards the other end of the couch. He sat down, coffee in hand. A silence fell between them, Castiel feeling the need to break it, though Dean didn’t seem to mind.

“Thank you for the clothes,” Castiel eventually said. Dean looked up at him, deep in his own thoughts, and smiled, looking down at the shirt and back up again.

“Not a problem, your own was kind of drenched in vomit. Figured you’d need to change”. Castiel’s shoulder fell a little forward, feeling as if he should be apologizing, but not really finding the words. “You a Skynyrd fan?” Dean asked, leaving Castiel no chance to search further for an explanation. Castiel shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m not sure,” he said, getting another huff out of Dean.

“As in you haven’t heard of them?”

Castiel smiled weakly at him, Dean smirking in return.

“I got a little something to teach you then,” he said, simply, though not giving Castiel more than that, making him unsure if it was just one of those things you say to be kind, or if there actually would be teaching in the future. Castiel sipped his coffee. Dean looked down at the mug, then up at Castiel once more. “I forgot to ask if you take it black,” Dean said. “But milk and sugar might not be the best for your system right about now anyway.”

Castiel let out a small chuckle at that. “I like it this way, though thank you for the consideration. And I’m feeling fine, really. The shower helped”.

Dean nodded satisfied, putting his coffee aside, already finished. Castiel hesitated for a second.

“I’m really sorry, Dean,” he said, truly feeling it and even hearing the remorse in his own voice. The man smiled at Castiel then, all real and no pity or disgust, just a genuine smile.

“No worries,” he said, shrugging. “We’ve all been there. Had to admit I was a little skeptical at first, you heading straight for the whiskey and all, but it became quite evident that you don’t drink all that often, making it an accident, not a recurring event”.

Dean gave him another smile, stretching himself further out on the couch, his feet barely touching Castiel’s own, though his was curled up against his chest. Castiel looked at the man, still shirtless and oh if that didn’t make Castiel’s stomach take a twirl. Dean had several scars of different sizes and forms, clearly not all from the same object on his lower abdomen and upper arms, some of which looked like burn marks. His throat clenched a little at the sight, but Dean didn’t seem to notice his stares, and obviously didn’t care all that much about it in the first place, shirt being off and all. Castiel wondered if this was one of the few evidences left of John Winchester ever existing in the brothers’ lives. As on cue, Dean rose to go grab a t-shirt and pulled it on, the logo of ACDC on it.

“Were you afraid of that?” Castiel asked when the man returned, Dean looking questioningly at him. “Of it being a recurring event, I mean”.

Dean smiled crookedly at Castiel then, and Castiel felt like he’d read the situation correctly. The older Winchester shrugged gently.

“I just didn’t want you to be like that,” he said simply, gaze not leaving Castiel’s eyes. Dean’s own eyes were so green, almost as green as the walls in his room. They were rather beautiful, in Castiel’s opinion.

“What did you want me to be like, then?” he asked, Dean looking a little taken aback by the question, making a hesitating sound as the door to Sam’s bedroom opened and a very bewildered Jessica came walking out, hair in a bun and only wearing boxers and a t-shirt. She saw the two men on the couch and gasped a little at them.

“Oh, sorry! I just smelled coffee and the cravings became too bad,” she said, grinning and walked right past them, not caring about her lack of clothing. She returned from the kitchen with a mug and the entire coffee pot in hand, walking towards the couch.

“Where’s the giant?” Dean asked lazily, sticking out his mug for a refill from Jessica who poured coffee in both the men’s mugs without asking.

“Still sleeping of the alcohol,” she said happily, leaving the now empty pot on the table and returning to Sam’s room without another word.

Dean looked after her, smiling. “Cute kid,” he said. Castiel didn’t mention how Jessica only was younger by four years, thinking Sam the same age always must have seemed like a kid in Dean’s eyes, Dean taking care of him while still being a child himself. It made him wonder if Dean felt older than he really was, last night’s party not giving any evidence of just that, the taking care of Castiel maybe.

“You were correct in your conclusion, I hardly ever drink, yet usually show more control then I did last night,” Castiel said, holding the newly warm coffee mug between his hands. “I was a little nervous, to be honest. My people skills are a little rusty”.

Dean smiled at him, as if he could tell, though didn’t say it aloud.

“Sorry I dragged you away from your own party to take pity on me,” Castiel said, remembering the brunette from the night before and the kiss she and the older Winchester had shared. Dean shook his head.

“You didn’t, I was going to bed when I found you,” Dean said, Castiel surprised at that. “Sam and I thought you left without saying, not that it’d matter if you did, but everyone had left by the time I came into the room, finding you next to the trash bin”. Dean grimaced a little at the memory, making Castiel look down, but Dean just waved a hand with a ‘don’t worry about it’ gesture and a plain smile. “You’d probably already been there a while by then,” Dean said, and Castiel nodded.

He tugged a little at the sleeves of his shirt, a nervous gesture that Dean clearly noticed, eyes glancing down at Castiel’s hands before meeting his eyes again, expression open to interpretation.

“Sorry about undressing you and all, I figured you’d sleep better without the stench up close like that. I left the jeans,” Dean said, the last part with an amused tone, as a joke. Castiel smiled gratefully at him.

“Thank you, again, I’m sure it wasn’t a very pleasant experience,” Castiel said, and saw Dean’s eyes once again fall down to his chest and then his arms, before returning to his face… with a smirk.

“Oh, I’ve seen worse,” he said, still smirking. Castiel didn’t know what to think of that, not sure if Dean saw the same significance in those words as he himself did, so Castiel just genuinely smiled, though a little shyly, in return. He wondered to himself if that was why Dean was showing of his own scars with such ease, trying to make Castiel feel better about the whole situation. Sam came out of his bedroom then, Jessica pushing him gently from behind, the large man moaning tiredly and Jessica still grinning wildly, exclaiming:

“Time for pancakes!”

\------

Castiel locked himself into his own apartment a couple of hours later, still so full after what felt like a lifetime worth of pancakes and bacon, and more than a few cups of coffee. He smiled to himself. It had, in fact, been really nice. Dean made the pancakes, Jessica fried the bacon, both singing loudly to Lynyrd Skynyrd’s ‘Free bird’, which Castiel actually had heard on several occasions, not knowing the band behind it. Sam set the table, still huffing with his tiredness but frequently sending his girlfriend glances of admiration, blushing at Castiel when he saw the grin plastered on Castiel’s face at the site. Castiel, after asking for the sixth time if he could help with something, had been carefully guided, coffee mug in hand, by Dean to their movie collection beneath the television, asking the older man to find something he hadn’t seen and found interesting. Which turned out to be almost every single movie they owned, but he eventually ended up with the first movie in the Lord of the rings trilogy, earning a large grin from both Dean and Sam and a ‘not again’ from Jessica.

So they had watched the first movie, including constant comments from both Winchester brothers and several eye rolls from Jessica. Before they even noticed, the whole pancake stack was gone and they were all rolled out before the television, Jessica and Sam lying together on the couch, and Dean and Castiel sitting side by side up against it. Dean frequently found new fun facts about the movie production and actors to share with Castiel, and Castiel commented on the differences between the book and the movie, which Dean had never read.

They were halfway through the second one when Sam suddenly quirked up from behind Jessica on the couch, the blonde half a sleep and drooling just a little, having seen the movie one to many times before.

“Dude,” he said, looking at Castiel, Dean and Castiel both looking back up at the younger Winchester. “What happened to you? We thought you left?”

Dean laughed at that. “A little slow today, huh, little brother?” he asked, smirking and earning a bitch face from his younger sibling. Dean nudged Castiel with his own shoulder. “Cas here, like yourself, got a little too much to drink last night and passed out in my bed. I noticed when I went to sleep myself, not wanting to wake him, so I just slept on the couch. He came staggering in here this morning, still wearing his costume and all, so he borrowed some of my clothes.”

Castiel looked at Dean with a questioning expression, Dean nudging him lightly in the shoulder. “You smelled a whole lot better after showering off that stench of booze,” he said, winking and looking up at Sam, that looked back at his brother with a look of pure skepticism. “Surprised you noticed anything last night, you were such a gonner”.

“I was not! Jerk.”

“Bitch. You totally were”.

The brothers both laughed at that, returning their attention to the television, Dean not looking at Castiel, and therefore not seeing the grateful smile on his face. Maybe he’d made a new friend after all.

Now though, back in the safety of his own apartment, he felt tired once again, realizing he didn’t get all that much sleep in between vomiting and waking up, sweating from nightmares and vivid dreams during the night. He scratched his own forearms, still wearing the shirt he borrowed from Dean, but returning to his own – not so great smelling – jeans even though Dean insisted he could borrow some jeans from him. After all, they were almost the same height, Dean only a few inches taller, but a little broader over the shoulders and more filled out then Castiel himself. He had declined the offer, though, saying Dean had done more than enough for him already, speaking lowly so Sam wouldn’t hear. He’d given the older Winchester’s arm a gentle squeeze and a significant look of gratitude before mouthing a last thank you as Dean, Sam and Jessica waved him goodbye, Jessica still half-asleep after being awaken at the end of the second movie.

Dean had seen his scars. He had said so himself, if not in so many words, but Castiel was sure of it, and though still warm and fuzzy from the pancakes, the heavy feeling setting in his stomach had nothing to do with all the currently digesting food. He felt embarrassed. No one was supposed to see those, he had worked hard for that to be the case for the last 7 years of his life, succeeding as well. Not even Gabriel knew as Anna had promised never to tell him. Castiel wanted to be the best possible role model for his little brother (and was failing miserably, though no one could blame Castiel alone for his brother’s life ambitions).

He wasn’t sure how to deal with the fact that there now was someone else who knew as well. He didn’t want to feel ashamed and did in no way feel that mental issues should be stigmatized and something to be afraid of admitting too. Nevertheless, he had told himself so many times to get past it, and always told Anna that he had. That he was just protecting himself from the outside world and all its triggers by being somewhat of a loner, preferring alone time with his books and his running. Anna had eventually calmed herself at that, seeing Castiel looking quite satisfied with his own life and where it was heading. She didn’t know he still occasionally relapsed, like at the end of the summer. That was the worst part. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he truly thought he’d be able to talk about his problems, show of his scars if they were just that – scars – in the past, and not something currently happening and that still might be happening in the future. He felt like a fraud, weak even, asking Sam to share his own problems and difficult past, while hiding his own from everyone to see.

He went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water from the sink, draining it in an instance and sighed deeply, pressing the cold glass against his neck. He closed his eyes at the sensation, thinking of that morning, Dean laughing and in no way acknowledging seeing the evidence of Castiel’s most negative trait. He smiled, thankful for the older Winchester’s tactfulness during his younger brother’s questioning, sticking his head out for Castiel. It had been a long time since anyone had done that.

He removed his phone from his jeans, long dead by then after more than a day without charging (stupid smart phones with no battery life whatsoever), and sat it to charging by the kitchen table. He turned it on and did the dishes while waiting for it to boot up. It eventually did, Castiel drying of his hands, watching his screen with – oh, messages from three different people.

He took the phone and sat down at the chair next to the table, opening the first one.

 **8.05AM, Annael:** Ok? Fun? Costume good? Miss u.

As a poet, his sister wasn’t a woman of many words. He wrote back a quick response.

 **4:12PM, Castiel:** More than ok, and fun. Costume was great, thank you again. Dinner soon?

He got a thumbs up in response hardly ten second later and eyed the next one.

 **0:02PM, Hannah** : Pictures! You promised!

Castiel chuckled at that, sending her one of the pictures Anna took of him before running out the door to take the bus. She didn’t answer right away, so Castiel checked the last one.

 **2:44PM, Gabe the master of masturbation:** Sup, big bro? Opening up the new place next Saturday, be there. I’ll give you a lapdance for free.

A dozen winky faces and some of them the ‘Netflix and chill’ kind followed that last statement, making Castiel huff. He let out another huff as he noticed the change in contact name, Gabriel obviously messing with his phone the last time they hung out. He’d forgotten about Gabriel opening a new club, but of course, being the older, supportive brother and all, he had to go. Anna would never join him though. Maybe he could ask Sam, or Dean, or both. He grimaced. Maybe you didn’t ask other men to join you at a strip club. He wasn’t sure on the rules on that one. Jessica would probably join him, though.

His phone buzzed again, thinking it was Hannah responding to the image, he left it for charging and decided to answer it later on, finishing up the dishes and finally, feeling more human and less like a walking pancake, strapped on his jogging shoes and went out for a run.

He came back an hour later, sweat dripping down his forehead, grasping for air, a little out of it after the night before. He drank another glass of water, then another, and sighed gratefully as he pulled his cell phone out of the charger, walking towards the shower. Still no response from Hannah, though the message icon blinked towards him from the screen. Gabriel? He never gave him an answer to his reminder. He opened his phone.

 **5:50PM, Unknown number:** Hi, this is Dean. Sam gave me your number, hope you don’t mind. Washed your clothes, ready whenever. Pick them up Wednesday? Last LOTR at my place? Pizza on me.

Castiel’s stomach gave another unfamiliar twirl. He reread the message, undressing out of his long sleeved shirt and running tights, looking at his phone. He saved the number and finally answered:

 **6:30PM, Castiel:** I don’t mind, thank you. Pizza and pickup sounds great, 7PM?

He huffed a little at the phrasing ‘pizza and pickup’, wanting to rephrase himself when another message ticked in.

 **6:32PM, Dean:** 7 it is, looking forward to it.

Winky face.

Castiel’s cock twitched slightly, Castiel biting his lip at the stupid, probably completely non-meaningful emoticon. He took an extra-long shower after that.


	4. The Mystery Man (Communication breakdown)

Castiel was out running, as always without any music in his ears, just listening to the sounds of the city falling behind as he ran further into the woods. It was a dense, cold morning, November finally arriving and Castiel preferred it this way, never a big fan of the summer heat. It also helped when no one commented on his choice of clothes. He expected it to rain later that week, if not that very same day, but it held up so far. He did not really mind running in the rain. It did however make the ground soggy and his shoes all wet, so he usually went another route on especially rainy days.

It was Tuesday, the first after Halloween, and Sam had texted Castiel the day before, saying he looked forward to meeting him again. He did not go into detail, but mentioned fighting with Dean, something Castiel did not think happened all that often, and he needed to ventilate. Castiel, figuring that was his job, after all, though still not sure why it was given to him, answered with a smiley face and a “Then talk we will”, getting a thumbs up and “Dig’ the Star Wars reference” in return.

After setting up a time with Dean for picking up his clothes from the party, Dean had asked if he hadn’t seen Star Wars as well, which Castiel had not (shocker), so Castiel had promised to watch at least the first one (the first one being the fourth one, which Castiel found really confusing) before meeting up that Wednesday. So Castiel had watched ‘A new hope’ after work the previous Monday, Hannah rather shocked by Castiel’s announcement to do just that as he left work early.

The lake was coming up quickly, Castiel slowing down to regain his breath before stepping out into the lighting. He had been running that same route almost every day for the last three years, though this was only the fourth or fifth time he had seen someone else there at such an early morning hour. Castiel stopped dead in his tracks, not moving forward to look down into the lake as he usually did, instead watching the beautiful brunette brushing her hand through the equally dark hair of a young boy. He seemed to be about Michael’s age, somewhere between five and seven. He looked like a sweet kid, dressed in a shirt slightly too big, slapping his mother’s hand lightly in annoyance of the continued brushing, the brunette only smiling down at the kid in return. Castiel held his breath, as if they could hear him from where he stood, stepping back a little into the woods, but he continued watching them. The kid reminded him a lot of Michael, which made him swallow hardly, feeling the familiar ache in his chest at the thought of his nephew and the light leaving his glassy eyes, looking bluer than ever against the dark pavement beneath him.

He felt his own eyes getting wetter by the second, dragging the back of his hands against them both, drying them off and turning around to run back home again. He had to go to work soon anyway, and the lake would still be there tomorrow. He could not get the sight of blue eyes out of his head the whole run home.

\-------

Castiel had barely been able to shower for more than a minute. He caught an apple from the kitchen and ran to the bus, bumblebee bag flying behind him. Finally seated on the bus, he texted Sam with a request that he brought lunch and in return, Castiel would suggest an interesting outing for the three of them, meaning him, Sam and Jessica. He did not mention Dean, though he had every intention of asking Dean as well, but wanting Sam to explain their sudden quarreling first. Sam quickly responded with and ‘Intrigued’ and “It’s a deal”. Castiel hummed at that. He then texted his sister, asking if they could do that dinner soon, adding a heart emoticon to the end, as well as the emoticons of a redheaded girl, a black haired man and a burger.

He came into the office a minute past his official workday beginning at 9AM. Hannah gave him a faked sour look.

“You’re slipping,” she said flatly, and he shot her a worried glance, but she was smiling, amused as always, and Castiel breathed out easily. He remembered Anna saying that to him three years earlier, just starting his doctorate with Hannah, and he truly was slipping, more than ever. He regained control fast enough though, and it was the last time he ever slipped up in hiding his not completely resolved problem from Anna. He scratched his forearms, sitting down on his desk and sighing.

“Yes, I really am, one minute past nine, god, what have become of me?” he said, sighing once again, putting all his non-existing acting skills into it, and Hannah laughed at that.

“Don’t be a tool,” she said while shaking her head and she returned her gaze to the computer. Castiel huffed.

“I’m not anyone’s tool, thank you very much”.

He had a class between 10 and 12, teaching modern literature, something he usually enjoyed, the class always finding Harry Potter or The fault in our stars to be more fascinating then Jane Austen or Emily Brown. Today, they were particularly interested as Castiel had led them into a discussion about how love was portrayed naively in modern romance novels, the book “Me before you” by Jojo Moyes coming into the discussion, as well as several others. It was getting quite heated, the time quickly heading towards the end of the class. He saw a tall, brown haired man entering at the top of the stairs, and he gave Sam a small smile, wondering what he was doing in there, but Sam just smiled in return, sitting down next to a blonde girl that Castiel suddenly recognized as the blond caressing Charlie’s hair at Saturday’s party. He had never noticed her in class before. She and Sam talked quietly in the back and Castiel returned his attention to a dark skinned student in his late twenties. Henriksen, Castiel remembered, some of his friends calling him Vicky. Castiel, remembering all too well the ‘Cassie’ years, felt a little sorry for him, though the man, Victor, did not seem to mind.

“Did you have a question for me, Henriksen?” Castiel asked, smiling up at the student. Victor, good student that he was, smiled back and leaned forward in his chair.

“I do. I wanted to know… if, ehm, do you believe in true love, professor?”

Castiel looked at Victor, eyes wide, the rest of the class looking equally impressed at the courage of the question and probably all wondering if Victor would get away with it. Had it been any other teacher, he would probably get reprimanded for taking the subject of topic, Castiel’s opinion of love not being on the curriculum after all. However, he always encouraged curiosity. Shooting down on it now seemed somehow wrong. He hesitated.

“Well, I do not see how it is all that relevant, but…”

Castiel looked up at Sam, now listening closely, the blonde beside him as well. He sighed.

“I wish I could say that I do. True love is a beautiful concept, the idea of someone being ‘the one’ for you and you alone, two souls being united as one, destined to love and cherish each other for the rest of their lives. It is a nice thought. I have, however, seen too many ‘true loves’ being crushed into the pavement (He flinched at his own choice of words). If there was a soul out there, a soulmate, meant only for you, it should be destined for you two too meet. If that was the case, why do we see so many lonely people dying ever day? Of old age, of sickness, by their own hand. If there truly were a concept such as true love, wouldn’t there be someone there to save them? To prevent it from happening? No, I believe true love is a concept we talk about in fairy tales to remind our children to always believe in a better future. And though it is a nice gesture, I believe we need to remind our children that they design their own futures, and it is up to them and them alone to make it a good one”.

The class was silent, gazing down at Castiel. He coughed slightly.

“Ehm, that being said, like having faith in god, having faith in true love on a personal level does no one harm, and I would advise you to continue having that faith if it makes your lives better in any way. John Green, which you all know by now, once said that ‘True love will triumph in the end – which may or may not be a lie, but if it is a lie, then it’s the most beautiful lie we have’. Sometimes it’s not really about believing in something because you have proof, but because believing in something makes the world seem like a better place to live in”.

The bell rang, and his students fell into a loud murmur, looking at each other and sending glances down at their professor, pushing their way out of the auditorium.

“Remember sending in the subjects of your midterm-papers by tomorrow evening!” he yelled out, hearing a few ‘yeah yeah’’s and one or two forgotten curses. Castiel shook his head, though excited to see a hundred different, hopefully anyway, subject lines entering his email during the next two days.

Sam and the blonde was standing before him, both grinning at him and Castiel shot them a questioning glance.

“Too much?” he asked, the blonde shrugging and Sam laughing.

“A little? Maybe?” Sam asked, still grinning, but the blonde punched him, quite hard at the looks of it, in the stomach. “Hey!” Sam exclaimed.

The blonde shook her head at Castiel. “It was awesome, really, heart and soul and all. You really should write your own stuff. I liked your ‘fuck true love’ statement way better than that sippy one Green said”. Castiel frowned at that, thinking ‘fuck true love’ really wasn’t what he was going for, but a praise was a praise after all.

“Thank you,” he said simply. “I’m afraid I missed your name Miss…?”

She laughed. “No Miss, please, Jesus, makes me feel old. I’m Jo!”

They shook hands.

“Nice to meet you. Jo. I would prefer your entire name if I may ask, as I do not feel all that professional using nicknames during class”.

“Her name is Joanna Beth Harvelle,” Sam said, earning another punch in the gut. Castiel chuckled.

“Joanna, then,” Castiel said and smiled at the feisty blonde. “I understand what you’re doing in my classroom, I do not, however, understand your presence, Sam”.

Sam smiled at him. “Always with the formality, Castiel. I was actually wondering if you would join Jo and me for lunch? We’re meeting Charlie as well”.

Castiel looked at Sam questioningly, still smiling at Jo. “So, nothing to talk about then?” Castiel said, the tone in his voice unmistakable, but Sam just shrugged.

“We figured it out. For now. Next Tuesday,” he said, smiling gratefully at Castiel for the tact, Jo looking between the two men with increasing curiosity yet said nothing.

“Then lunch it is”.

\------

Lunch was nice. They ate at a small café on campus called ‘Lucy’s cage’, owned by a sarcastic and somewhat scary blonde that ran around singing show tunes while waiting tables. His name was Lucifer. He and Castiel had been talking about angel mythology for the last 12 years, Castiel coming in there once a week, often just to grab a coffee (he seldom ate lunch outside of his office), but on occasion, he sat down talking to Lucifer and they would grab lunch or a coffee together. Castiel never talked much about his personal life, but sometimes it still felt like Lucifer were in his own head. He just knew stuff.

“Castiel, my favorite angel!” he exclaimed when they walked into the shop. Charlie, already seated at a booth near the windows, looked up in amazement, looking between Castiel and Lucifer. The food was amazing and the coffee probably the best on campus, but Lucifer tended to creep people out. Castiel could see why.

“Hello, Lucifer,” Castiel said, shaking the other man’s eager hand. Lucifer grinned, looking as evil as ever, though he really wasn’t. Jo and Sam gave each other a nervous glance, which Lucifer spotted immediately.

“What, you prefer calling me Satan? ‘Cause you can, I’ll answer, don’t you doubt it for a second,” Lucifer said, eyeing the two young students. They both shook their heads, looking petrified, and Lucifer burst out laughing. “I’m kidding! Jesus! Call me Luke, I’ll be in the back if you need me. The usual coffee, Castiel?”

“No, lunch,” Castiel said and Lucifer exclaimed a happy ‘Ah’, giving Castiel a one armed hug.

“Good to see you making some normal friends, see you around!”

They sat down at Charlie’s table, Jo taking the seat next to the redhead, the girls smiling at each other, and Sam scooting in next to Castiel.

“Creepy dude,” Sam said, looking back as if Lucifer was still watching them. “He was eyeing me in this weird way… like he _wanted_ me or something”.

Castiel hummed at that, checking out their menu, though he knew it back to back after 12 years of not changing one bit.

“He probably does,” Castiel said, deciding on the large cheeseburger, starving with the lack of food in his system after his morning run. Sam turned to him, shocked expression and all.

“He what?” Sam whined, Charlie and Jo laughing. Castiel looked at the younger Winchester with a neutral expression.

“Want you. Lucifer is as gay as it gets. He kept hitting on me for the first six years I went to school here, before finally realizing I wasn’t his type anyway, and he wasn’t mine. It was mostly about the chase I think. He kept pushing me into saying yes, so one day I did. It was rather awful,” he said, wincing at the memory of one of the most terrible evenings of his life. Charlie and Jo laughed louder at that, the redhead leaning against the blonde, tears of laughter forming in her eyes. Sam just huffed.

“Anyway, we met the next week and never talked about it again. I have been buying my coffee here ever since”.

Sam looked at him in surprise. “Huh, I couldn’t tell,” he said, looking at Castiel as if he was a new person all of a sudden. Castiel looked at him with equal confusion.

“Couldn’t tell what?”

“That you’re gay, dude!”

“Oh, I’m not”.

Sam looked even more confused at that. Charlie removed herself from Jo, leaning forward and smiling wide at Castiel. “Bisexual then?” she asked happily and Castiel smiled at her, but hesitated. He was thinking. He always had trouble explaining his own sense of sexuality to other people.

“I am utterly indifferent to sexual orientation,” he said matter-of-factly. “I don’t like labeling things, and I think everyone could love anyone, gender not being a factor, if the other person simply had the correct characteristics”.

He looked at Sam. “For instance, if Jessica had been just the way she is, same personality, same humor, same affection for you as she clearly has (Sam smirked at that), but was a boy. Would it really matter?”

Sam thought this over, but did not answer right away, so Castiel turned to the two girls, both listening with interest. “Or Charlie, if Jo had been Jo, just the way she is, but she had been a boy, would you like her any less?” he asked, tilting his head at them, wondering. Charlie laughed at that, Jo blushing a little.

“Wait, what? Are you a thing now?” Sam exclaimed, looking between the girls, both blushing now, but smiling at each other. Charlie took Jo’s hand, under the table, though still easily seen from the men’s’ point of view. Castiel looked at them apologetically.

“My apologies, I did not know it was a secret,” he said, but Charlie just shook her head at him.

“Nah, we we’re going to tell you guys today anyway, that’s why we wanted to meet up, actually!” She looked at Sam. “Dean already knows, sorry dude! He confiscated my phone during LARPing the other day and totally saw an erotica novel from Jo, kind of blew our cover”. Charlie laughed at Jo’s half excusing, half fuck it expression. Sam was still as dumbstruck.

“Huh, good for you guys! I’m happy for you,” he said, smiling dumbly. Charlie hummed.

“Yeah, now we just have to find someone for Dean,” she said, winking at Sam, and Sam sighed in return.

“Good luck with that,” he said tiredly, rolling his eyes. Castiel looked between the two of them.

“I thought Dean was with that brunette. From the party. I do not know her name,” he said, looking at Sam, but Sam was looking unsurely at him in return. “She has a kid? I think”. The other man brightened at that.

“Oh, Lisa! No, they’re not together. It used to be a thing, but never worked out. He wasn’t ready for it, and he wasn’t really what she needed,” Sam said, and Charlie nodded in agreement, Jo making a ‘duh’ noise, like that was something everyone should have known from the start.

“Oh,” Castiel began, eyebrows raised. “I saw them kissing, at the party. She kissed him,” he said, suddenly feeling the need to scratch his arms again. He held himself from it. Charlie looked appalled.

“She what? When? Did he kiss her back? He didn’t, did he? ‘Cause that would be so typical self-destructing Dean, that…”

“I don’t know. I didn’t really stick around to watch them make out,” Castiel said with a frown and an uncovered hint of annoyance in his voice. Charlie stilled at that, eyeing him suspically.

“Right,” Charlie said, but dropped the subject. Sam looked a little defeated, and Jo reached out a hand to pet Sam’s large one, resting on the table.

“He didn’t tell you?” Jo said, voice low, all attention on Sam. He shook his head. Castiel got the feeling he could have needed that Tuesday talk after all.

\------

They returned to more joyful subjects after that, talking about Charlie and Jo, Sam and Jessica (“Jess, dude! Everyone calls her Jess, you gotta get used to the nicknames soon!”), as well as classes, Castiel’s thesis and so on. It was nice, the conversation flowing and never falling into any uncomfortable silence, all happily consuming their chosen lunches.

“So,” Sam said, between his bites of salads. “You had a suggestion for an ‘outing’, as you said?”

Castiel looked at Sam, smiling crookedly. “You didn’t bring me lunch,” he said.

“My treat”.

Castiel hummed. “Okay, fair enough”. The two girls were looking at him with interest, and Castiel figured it would not hurt to tell a few more. He could not spend his entire life hiding his brother’s identity. “Have you heard of Gabe, the master of masturbation?” he asked. Sam practically spitting his drink, Jo bursting into laughter and Charlie nodding eagerly.

“Oh, yeah! I totally own one of his books, he’s awesome!” Charlie exclaimed, grinning wildly, getting a puzzled look from both Jo and Sam. “What? A girl gotta know how to take care of herself, all right?”

Castiel smiled at Charlie. He would make sure to tell Gabriel that. Or in fact…

“Do you want to tell him that yourself?” he asked, earning a confused look from the three of them.

\-------

After a little hesitation, mostly on Sam’s part, the girls were totally into it after hearing about Castiel’s famous strip club owner, erotica writer and porn star of a younger brother. “You have the weirdest family,” Sam had said, voice low, being the only one of the three knowing about Anna’s hidden name and her impressive list of published poetry. Sam said he had to ask Jess first, but they all knew she was game anyway, and the girls were walking side by side out of the café, holding hands and talking about what they should be wearing.

“You okay, Sam?” Castiel said, looking up at the larger man. Sam just shrugged.

“Yeah, I’m good. Brother trouble. Dean is a little… off. These days.”

Castiel looked at him curiously, but did not feel like pushing it.

“I am here for you, Sam. Whenever you need,” he said, simply. “Not just Tuesdays”.

Sam smiled at that. “I know. Thanks”. Castiel just smiled in return. They came to a halt at Castiel’s bus stop.

“This is me,” he said, gesticulating dumbly to the bus driving towards them, giving the driver a small wave. “Sam, I will see you tomorrow?” Castiel asked, Sam looking puzzled as ever.

“You will?” he asked, and Castiel looked at him with raised eyebrows.

“Ehm, will I not? Lord of the rings? Pizza?”

Sam looked just as confused.

“I have a date, with Jess. I’m meeting her parents, actually,” he said, blushing a little, but grinning wildly. Castiel, unable to wrap his head around this new turn of events smiled half-heartedly in return.

“That’s great, Sam,” he said simply. Sam looked at him in confusion, but the bus was honking its horn at him, and Castiel waved him and the girls goodbye, saying he would see them Saturday, and boarded the bus. He could feel Sam’s gaze following him all the way around the corner.

The next day came before Castiel had even began preparing for what was about to happen. Except, he did not really know what to prepare for. He just assumed this was a ‘the whole gang’ thing, figuring Dean had already talked to Sam and Jess about it. Maybe he asked Castiel first, and them after, and then they had other plans, and he, nice as he was, didn’t want to cancel on Castiel. Yeah, that was probably it. But that didn’t make any sense either, because then Sam would have known, and Sam definitely didn’t know, but now he knew, and maybe Dean didn’t want him to know, but why not? Was it because it was Castiel? Was Dean ashamed? Of what, being friends with him? Maybe Dean wanted to talk about what happened the night of the party. Maybe he didn’t even want Sam to be there, maybe he wanted to tell Castiel to back away, to not let any of his influence rub over on Sam, as he was somehow contagious and oh, this was not good for his migraines.

Castiel groaned for the sixth time since lunch, getting a tired sigh from Hannah.

“Seriously? What’s up with you? If you’re not going to write, not going to clean and in any other way not be productive to me or our thesis, get the fuck out!”

So he did, figuring he might as well, he would probably spend two hours fuzzing over his lack of clothes, trying on everything and eventually just deciding with blue jeans and a black long sleeve anyway, who was he kidding. He could go with a shirt, though.

**4:34PM, Dean:** Still on for tonight?

Castiel reread the message four times before answering.

**4:40PM, Castiel:** It is not off.

**4:41PM, Dean:** Cool, see you.

**4:43PM, Castiel:** See you then.

He groaned internally. He was putting way too much into this, he always did that, Anna told him not to, the shrinks had told him not to, even Gabriel had told him to ‘get that stick out of his ass’ on several occasions. This was nothing. Dean was not going to yell at him, or kick him out, or tell him to fuck off, and if he were (which he was not, was he?), Castiel would deal with it like the grown man he was. Yes, this would be perfectly fine.

**4:50PM, Dean:** Might be running a little late, crisis at work. Will probably be in the shower, key under the doormat. Make yourself comfortable.

Winky face.

This was not going to be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only our fandom can make Lucifer a cute café owner without anyone raising an eyebrow. Don't you just love that? 
> 
> P.S.1: If you haven't read the fault in our stars, please do. The movie was good and all, but the book brings me to tears every time. 
> 
> P.S.2: Did anyone take the T&S reference?


	5. The Son (Wearing and tearing)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for graphic descriptions of abuse and self-harm.

Castiel stood outside Sam and Dean’s apartment, tripping on his heels. He was soaked. The bus had not arrived on time, and Castiel, foolish as ever, decided to make a run over to the next stop, which would not take him more than ten minutes at max. He made sure to keep his pace down, not breaking a sweat through his (as anticipated) black long sleeve and old, faded jeans. It seemed like a good idea until the sky, grey and gloomy as it had been all week, finally decided to cry out, sending large drops of rain onto the pavement before him, leaving Castiel dripping from head to toe by the time the bus arrived at the next stop. “Heard of an umbrella?” the bus driver had said, watching him with withheld laughter. Castiel grunted dismissively in return.

He looked down at his pathetic self, still dripping with water and getting colder by the second. He tried the doorbell, three times, but no one answered, so Castiel assumed, like Dean had warned him, that the older Winchester was busy showering. Castiel sighed and got down on his knees to pick up the key under the doormat. He narrowed his eyes at the key, not really seeing the point in locking the door at all if you were to leave a key out so openly. Maybe it was a just a one time occasion. Just for Castiel.

He put the key in the lock, turned it and entered, and yes, he could hear the drumming beat of water coming from inside Dean’s room, door halfway open. Castiel felt an urge to go inside, but wondered instead where he would find his clothing from the party. He really needed the change, another set of jeans would help, he shouldn’t really be walking around either, dripping all over their hardwood floor. He had not seen a washing machine at the brothers’ flat, and figured Dean must have taken it to a laundromat and then back again, meaning it could be anywhere really. Castiel kept standing still by the door instead, bracing himself for the mechanic’s multiple potential moods and chosen topic of conversation.

Dean came out less than five minutes later, yawning loudly and dragging his hand through damp hair. He was shirtless again, only wearing a towel draped around his lower abdomen. He was whistling, completely unaware of Castiel’s presence, and the older man could not find it in him to care. Dean was beautiful. Strong arms and broad shoulders, defined muscles in his upper back and chest area, and a little softer around his abdomen. He looked healthy and at ease with himself.  It suited him.

He decided to lessen the creep factor by making himself known, clearing his throat loudly, and Dean turned around to look at him.

“Cas! Hi, I didn’t hear you co… what the hell happened to you?” Dean exclaimed, looking the drenched man before him up and down. Castiel blew a strand of hair away from his forehead, smiling crookedly and a little tiredly.

“I had a disagreement with the bus,” Castiel said, going for joke and a shrug but he was not able to hide the shiver that went through him, clothes sticking and itching against his skin. Dean did not laugh.

“Take a shower, I’ll find you some clothes,” Dean said, making a hand movement towards his own room, and Castiel shook his head.

“I don’t want to intrude,” he said, folding his arms over each other. It truly was freezing.

“Dude, you are not getting sick on me, I’m serious! I’ll make you something warm, you like tea?”

Castiel looked at the other man. He was being insistent and was not going to back down, Castiel could tell.

“Tea is fine,” he said softly, and Dean nodded, moving into the kitchen.

“I’ll be in in a few minutes with warmer clothing,” he yelled from the other room, and Castiel smiled to himself. He still thought Dean was mad at him, for something, but the older Winchester seemed so used to taking care of other people, he probably could not help himself. Feeling another shiver down his spine, Castiel was not one to complain, and headed for the shower.

He enjoyed the familiar warmth of the water, softening the tension in his muscles and heating up his skin. He heard the cracking of an old door, the opening of drawers and the door closing again, sticking his head out from the stream of water incase Dean said something, but the man kept quiet the entire time. Castiel kept standing under the heat longer than necessary, hoping he didn’t dive too deep into the brothers’ supply of hot water, before finally stepping out, finding a towel inside the cabinet like last time. It was still soft, yet what seemed to be a previous clear white had gotten creamy and grey with several washes. Castiel dragged it one last time through his hair, stepping out into the room, shivering a bit at the sudden change in temperature and went over to the desk. Dean had left him his own black jeans and black socks, as well as what looked like a Led Zeppelin shirt. Castiel hummed at that, remembering Dean’s comment about teaching Castiel about Lynyrd Skynyrd and maybe even music in general.

He put on his own boxer briefs, a little dense but mostly saved from the rain, the socks and jeans. Then he saw it. The image of John on Dean’s nightstand, or what Castiel last Saturday had assumed to be John. He was holding a skinny, blond boy on his shoulders. John smiled happily and the boy was clearly laughing. Dean didn’t look much older than three, maybe four, which seemed fitting with his mother still being alive at that point, the happiness in both father and son’s eyes not being that of someone who recently lost a loved one. Castiel smiled sadly at the image, wishing it could always be like that for them, wondering how both brothers would have turned out if their parents were still alive and well. Castiel headed for the shirt.

It was a regular t-shirt.

Castiel frowned a little at that. So much for Dean being understanding.

He went to the door, opened it and popped his head out, seeing Dean, now barefoot in sweatpants and a faded red long sleeve, rolled upwards, reading a newspaper and biting his lip absently, the lip biting making Castiel a little warmer on the inside, but it might as well be the aftermath of showering. He cleared his throat once more Dean looked up at him with a questioning expression.

“Do you perhaps own a sweater or a jacket I could borrow?” Castiel said, trying to sound neutral but not really succeeding at it. Dean did not answer right away, just looked at the older man with a tense wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Sure, you can,” he said, while putting the paper down and rising from the couch. He pulled a hand through his blondish hair, now looking darker, still wet from his own shower. “But, ehm… I really don’t mind, you know. It’s like a hundred degrees in here”.

It was not. Castiel looked at him as the older Winchester stepped even further forward, now standing only a few feet away from Castiel’s head in the doorway. He swallowed.

“I mind,” he said, simply but with insistence. Dean just nodded at that, hesitating for a second before bending forward and undressing his own shirt, giving it to Castiel. Castiel quickly stretched out a hand to take it, Dean’s green eyes never leaving Castiel’s own, which made him grateful once more. He wrapped the shirt quickly over his head and pulled his arms through. It smelled distinctly like Dean, even though Castiel did not feel like that should be a smell of his recognition just yet. “Thank you,” he said, meaning it. Stepping backwards and out from his hiding spot behind the door, he retrieved the Zeppelin t-shirt and gave it to Dean. Their hands touched, just for a second, but it felt like more than that to Castiel. Dean was still looking him straight in the eyes.

“I made tea,” he said after a few seconds of silence, letting his hands fall and he returned to the couch were Castiel now saw two mugs. One plain white and the other with an image of Darth Vader drinking coffee through his breathing mask. Castiel smiled at that. He sat down at the other end of the couch, facing Dean, as Dean poured hot water into both their mugs, shoving the Vader one towards Cas with a tiny smile. The Zeppelin shirt was too small for Dean, hugging him a little too tightly around the shoulders and chest area. Castiel’s own red long sleeve, now rolled down, was slightly too big, but fitted well enough in the length and in the arms. He tugged a little at his sleeves, grasping the ends of them with his palms. Dean was clearly watching him, and Castiel, not wanting to face his gaze, continued looking down at his own hands. He needed to change the subject.

“I saw the picture on your nightstand,” Castiel said, finally looking up at Dean, whose eyebrows were raised, expression otherwise neutral. “Of John”.

Dean nodded, though not answering or giving Castiel any reason to keep asking, but Castiel wanted to know, and wanting to keep the topic off himself, he continued on.

“It’s the only photograph of him in your apartment, isn’t it? Unless Sam has some,” which he highly doubted considering Sam’s clear distaste for the man. Dean snorted at that, confirming Castiel’s suspicions. The green-eyed man looked at Castiel, licking his lips, sending Castiel’s stomach on another small twirl.

“You’re right. It is. Sam doesn’t exactly appreciate me owning it, but it’s the only thing I have left of my dad, you know? I can’t pretend he never existed”. Dean cleared his throat. “I don’t want to”.

Castiel looked at Dean with some surprise, seeing the difference between Dean and Sam so clearly, Dean being the one that had to take care of his little brother and clean up after his father’s messes. Sam had told him with anger and resentment in his voice of all the times John had come home, stone drunk and nearly passed out, almost choking on his own vomit. Dean had always sent Sam straight to bed, even right before John died, when Sam was 15 and old enough to understand his father’s multiple faults, Dean had still tried to protect his brother.

“You took care of him,” Castiel said, voice low and soft. He knew the brothers talked about Castiel and his meetings with Sam, assuming Dean knew all the things Castiel knew. “You take care of everyone”. He pulled on his sleeves again. Dean snorted at that.

“You sound just like Sammy,” he said tiredly, not looking at the older man. Castiel hummed at that.

“Maybe Sam is right?”

“He’s not!” Dean exclaimed, glancing quickly up at Castiel and then down again, putting his mug aside and sighing. He folded his arms around his legs, resting his head on them. “Sam thinks I spend so much time caring about everyone else, I forget to take care of myself. Which isn’t true, I just don’t talk about stuff all that often, you know? Not big on the sharing and caring. Especially not with Sam. I want him to be able to always count on me. To be there for him. Not to be caught up in my own problems”.

Castiel looked at him, head tilted and expression timid and wondering.

“You are talking now?” he said, giving Dean a small smile as the older Winchester looked at him. Dean returned the smile, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess, which is a little weird in itself. I don’t really know you,” Dean said, holding Castiel’s eyes. Castiel chuckled lightly.

“No, you do not. I am practically a stranger,” he said, smiling. A stranger that had used Dean’s shower twice, that he had cleaned up and carried to bed, that he had made tea and talked to about his deceased father and fighting with his brother.

“You don’t feel like a stranger, Cas,” Dean said, voice low and gentle. A silence fell between them, though not uncomfortable, both sipping their teas and falling into deep thought. Castiel rarely found silence comfortable if he was not alone in the room, always feeling like the silence was because of him, and that he needed to break it, needed to say something. It usually ended in him saying something inappropriate or completely random. He avoided it at all cost. But with Dean it felt different, like they didn’t need to voice their thoughts for the other one to hear. They could just be together, without making a point out of being together. Anna used to say that about Ezekiel. That they could be in the same room, both doing nothing or doing things on their own, while still feeling the safety of being in each other’s presence. Castiel almost blushed at himself, comparing his time with Dean to Anna’s time with Ezekiel.

“I was planning on making the pizzas myself, but didn’t exactly plan to stay overtime at work, so… do you want to order in?”

Castiel looked up at Dean as he broke the silence, though it did not feel desperate or rushed, as Castiel’s attempts always did.

“You were going to make your own?” Castiel said surprised, eyes large, making Dean laugh.

“Yeah, they’re much better that way. I make a mean pizza,” Dean said with a smirked. He winked at Castiel, causing another shiver down his spine, this time the good kind. Castiel hummed.

“Could we still make it?” Castiel asked, wanting to taste this ‘mean’ pizza of Dean’s. Dean checked his watch and looked back up at Castiel.

“We could, might get late, though?” he warned. Castiel knew he had classes in the morning, should prepare for them, should get to his office ahead of schedule for once, making Hannah stop commenting on his body being invaded by aliens considering his ‘whole new personality’, which was taking it a little too far in Castiel’s opinion. He also wanted to get in a nice long run, relieving some of the packed up tension from the last couple of days, taking the long route around the woods, avoiding the wet ground. He knew he should, but:

“I have time”.

So they went into the kitchen and Dean, all happy eyes and small laughs, explained the dos and don’ts of making pizza. Castiel had figured they would be using one of those prepared-for-use doughs and at least pizza sauce from a bottle, but Dean was making it all from scratch, starting on the sauce, having already made the dough the previous morning, humming to some unknown song. Castiel did not get to do much. He mostly just sat on the table, watching Dean and talking about smaller stuff, like Dean’s job and Sam’s studies, Castiel’s thesis and the brothers’ life on the road. Dean did not go into much detail of how or why, but happily shared all the places they had been, the things they had seen. Castiel, hardly ever leaving the state of California, enjoyed listening to the Winchester’s adventures. He could easily hear Dean’s affection for his younger brother, making Castiel a little sad at the thought of their current miscommunication. He realized they both simply cared too much. He was looking forward to talking to Sam about it next Tuesday, trying to help them both see the other’s point of view. Huh, maybe he should have been majoring in psychology, not literature.

“How come you’re so familiar with angels, Dean?” Castiel asked suddenly, interrupting Dean’s ever growing louder humming. Dean stopped and turned around to Castiel, smiling warmly.

“My mother,” he said. “She was really religious. We used to pray together every night, she taught me how, and she always used to say to me that ‘angels are looking over you’, you know?”  
Castiel nodded

“And she taught me about all the different angels she knew, starting with the archangels, then other ones as well, including Cassiel.” Dean smiled from the memory, faltering slightly as he continued. “When she passed, I continued the… tradition, I guess, with Sam. Telling him the same thing, that angels were watching over him, praying with him every night”.

Dean looked at Castiel, while he folded his hands behind his neck and sighed deeply. “When dad got worse, we prayed less. I often forgot about it, really, too tired to remember, and Sam didn’t want to push, even as a kid, though I know he found comfort in it. When… ehm, when dad got really drunk, he had a tendency to… lash out? On me. Never on Sam.” His eyes got hard at that. “I wouldn’t let him, so he took it out on me, but Sam… Sam watched, more often than not, Dad saying he would do the same to Sammy if he didn’t pay attention. So I told him to, told him to always watch, to not look away.” Dean sighed once more, lips trembling slightly. He bit his lower lip to still them and turned around to stir the sauce, gaze away from Castiel.

“We both stopped believing after that,” he said and shrugged. Castiel did not say anything right away, seeing one of the burn marks on his back, what Castiel assumed to be cigarette burns, right above the hem of his sweatpants where his t-shirt revealed a small patch of skin.

“I’m really sorry, Dean,” Castiel said honestly. “For what happened to you. And to Sam. You didn’t deserve that, no one does”.

Dean just shrugged, not turning around. He had most likely been told just that as a mantra his entire post-John life, from Sam, from doctors, friends. His own scars, self-inflicted, felt so foolish now, so weak, like how could he do that to himself, voluntarily, when others suffered real pain by the hand of another, to young or fragile to fight back?

“And I’m sorry for the other night. For passing out like that, for… for you having to take care of me. It must have reminded you of your father. That must have been difficult for you,” Castiel continued, and Dean turned to look at him at that. The younger man gave Castiel a small smile, then returned to draping the meat sauce over the pizza and adding what Castiel thought to be at least five pounds of grated cheese. Dean sat down on his heels to open the oven, exposing more skin on his back, and put the pizza inside. He rose and turned towards Castiel once more, brushing his hands against each other.

“It didn’t, really. Remind me of him. I never wanted to help John. I did it out of obligation. He was my dad, after all. I wanted to help you,” he said, looking intently at Castiel. “And anyhow, you didn’t cut me up with knives or punched me in the gut, did you, so you’re really not anything like him at all,” he said, joking, though his words were somehow sore from years of worn.

Castiel looked at the other man, so handsome and kind, big smile on his face, though he looked tired as well, dark rings under his eyes. They looked like the permanent kind, the ones you get from years of working too hard and not resting enough, not the kind you get from a few days of sleeping badly.

“Can I see them?” Castiel asked, before realizing the words were even leaving his mouth, he looked up at Dean, almost as surprised as Dean by his own words.

“What, my scars?” Dean asked, surprise evident in his voice, and Castiel just nodded, not able to articulate normal sounding words at that moment. Dean huffed, but did not look away. “Show me yours and I’ll show you mine,” he said, a small sparkle in his eyes, of amusement or excitement or some other emotion Castiel could not tell. Castiel himself flinched at that, feeling himself closing in on himself, wanting to protect his past, his scars and shitty brain from outsiders. But Dean looked so earnest, holding both his hands up in the air, defeated.

“It was a joke, dude, you don’t have too. Of course you can see,” Dean said, removing his shirt and grabbing the other chair from the table. He moved the chair closer towards Castiel and sat down in front of him. Dean was smiling genuinely at Castiel, and he could not help but wonder if this was normal for Dean, taking of his shirt and announcing the back-story of every single mark or scar on his tan skin like it was nothing. Castiel admired the other man’s strength.

“Now this one,” he said, pointing to a particularly large thick line, the easiest to spot, heading from right beneath his left nipple and down to his navel. “This was from the fourth of July, a year before dad passed. I was 18, Sam 14, and I had brought a date home, just to check up on Sammy before leaving to watch the fireworks. This was the first Independence Day I wasn’t going to spend with Sam. Sam, the smartass, wanted to work on his finales anyway, and was probably just happy that I would be able to get out and enjoy myself for a while. But dad was drunk as ever and was in the kitchen holding a beer, yelling at Sam for… something, who knows, and threatening him. Hearing the shouting, I came running through the door, date in hand, and told dad to stop, stepping in front of Sam.” Dean closed his eyes at the memory, holding his hand over his abdomen, covering the lower part of the scar. “Dad freaked, obviously, punched my date right in the face and slammed the beer bottle onto my chest, leaving me with this and a really weird trip to the emergency room”.

Castiel looked at Dean with shock. “Didn’t they ask who had done it?” he croaked out, getting madder at John by the second, feeling Sam’s resentment, sitting so close up to Dean and watching the marks he left behind. Dean nodded.

“Of course, they always did. I just told them it was some random dude in the park, Fourth of July and all, people go crazy for less”. He shrugged. “Anyway, the date drove and helped Sam drag me inside. I was really out of it. Never saw him again, not that I blame him”.

Castiel blinked. “Saw who?”

“The date,” Dean said, scratching his scar absently. He did not notice Castiel holding his breath. “Now this one! This has a really funny story”. He pointed to a distinct mark on his forearm that Castiel had not noticed before, now wondering how he could possibly miss it. It looked like a bow of some sorts, with to dots over it, and Castiel could have sworn he had seen it before. “Now, have you heard of Cain and Abel? Of course you have, stupid question. Anyhow, I was reading a lot of my mother’s books on angels and everything, and came over the story of the two brothers and the mark of Cain. They had painted a picture of it, and I thought it was really cool. I was about 14 or something. So I kept drawing it all the time, sometimes without even realizing it, in books, on napkins, at work waiting tables or while doing paperwork at the garage. One day I did it in front of John, not thinking about it, and he saw it, thinking it was some satanic stuff. He got so mad, he pulled out a small pocketknife and engraved the symbol into my skin, burned like crazy. Told me I was going to hell”. Dean looked absently at the scar. “I rarely spoke back, thinking it wasn’t worth the effort, but then I did. Told him I’d see him there. And that earned me this one,” and he pointed to a small scar on his temple, barely visible beneath his hairline if you didn’t know what to look for. Castiel shook his head with distaste.

“I can’t believe you can talk about this with such ease,” he said, voice low and frightened, but Dean just shrugged in return.

“It’s been seven years. He never laid a hand on Sammy. I did what I thought was right, and I still think it was the right thing to do. Had dad gone to jail, Sam and I would have been separated. It wasn’t worth it,” Dean said, smiling at Castiel. Castiel nodded, still not sure all the marks and pain John left behind was worth it, though he could see clearly that Dean thought so himself.

Without thinking, Castiel stretched out his hand, placing his palm against the thick scar beneath Dean’s chest, feeling the other man stiffen, holding his breath. He did not shake him off. Castiel felt the scar beneath his fingers, sticking slightly out from the rest of the skin. He let his eyes fall on Dean’s other scars, most of them small cuts or burn marks. The man’s freckles, Castiel finally getting his answer, went all over his chest and upper arms, forming a pattern of some sorts, as if the freckles were the starry sky and the scars were planets and meteors. Dean cleared his throat.

“Not a pretty sight, huh?” he said, voice trembling slightly. Castiel shook his head.

“’Everything has beauty, but not everyone sees it’,” he said, returning his hand to the other in his lap and smiling at Dean. “Confucius said that”.

Dean looked at him, and Castiel almost felt like he was closing in on him, not sure he was imagining it. Dean suddenly, though yet very carefully, laid both his hands, palm open upon Castiel’s forearms, still covered up beneath the red long sleeve. Castiel tensed.

“These as well?” Dean asked then, rubbing his hands gently up and down Castiel’s arms, not removing the fabric beneath them, not even looking at his own hands, but staring Castiel right in the eye, green eyes against Castiel’s blue, a warm and soothing smile on Dean’s face. Castiel closed his eyes for a second, grasping a breath before opening them again. Dean’s gaze did not waver.

“Dean…,” Castiel began, voice hesitant, but Dean took it for what it was and removed his hands without a word, but Castiel could feel the tension now, dense, as disappointment was filling the air, and Castiel thought he was doing just that. Disappointing Dean. Truly, he was disappointing himself. Dean, so brave, had been telling him all about his past and pain, not wavering for a second, to Castiel, barely an acquaintance, maybe the early stages of a new friend, and Castiel couldn’t find it in himself to return the favor. He opened his mouth to say something, but the alarm clock on the oven behind them rang loudly, making them both jump in their seats. Dean rose without a word, grabbing his shirt and pulling it on.

“Pizza time!” he said, shoving of the golden and really amazing smelling pizza to Castiel, who grinned at the other man in return.

Like promised, they watched the last lord of the rings, Dean gesticulating wildly with his hands between pizza bites, commenting on all the little stuff. He kept completely quiet during the loud action scenes, watching Castiel, head tilted, trying to take it all in while comparing it to the books at the same time. They drank soda, Dean having offered Castiel a beer, which he had declined easily. After eating way too much pizza (which tasted amazing), they were both lying on the couch, facing each other but watching the screen, ankles touching, when the movie finally ended. Dean sat up at once.

“What’cha think?” he asked, grasping his hands together in excitement, making Castiel laugh.

“It was… decent,” he said, grinning even wider at the pout on Dean’s face. “I prefer the books,” he finished, Dean let out an annoyed huff and threw a pillow at him that Castiel caught with ease.

“You’re such a nerd,” Dean said, but he was smiling. Castiel pressed the pillow towards himself and sat up in the couch as well, facing the other man. They sat in silence for a while, Castiel watching Dean, full and relaxed on the couch, smiling easily into the air. Castiel touched his own forearms, gaining Dean’s attention and the older Winchester’s brows furrowed, looking back up at Castiel’s contorted face.

“Sam doesn’t know,” Castiel said, as Dean’s eyes fell down to his arms again, then back up to Castiel’s face. The man nodded.

“I won’t tell,” he said, voice earnest. Castiel nodded and took a deep breath, bracing himself.

“No one else… knows,” he said then, looking down, not being able to face Dean. He heard the surprised noise from the younger man. Castiel shook his head. “My sister, Anna, she knows. But we don’t talk about it. At all, really. She thinks I’m good now, and I am, I mean…”

He was scratching his arms through the fabric, hardly even noticing himself before Dean suddenly held both his hands in his own, squeezing them and preventing him from continuing. Castiel looked up at Dean with surprise, Dean suddenly sitting much closer and the warmth of his hands soothing the itching feeling of his owns.

“It’s okay,” Dean said, voice so strong yet calm at the same time. Castiel shook his head.

“It’s not,” he began, earning another squeeze, harder this time, from Dean’s hands.

“It is,” Dean insisted. Castiel did not answer and Dean did not release his hands until Castiel’s breathing slowed down. Dean kept watching him, waiting for Castiel to calm, and he eventually did, looking intently at the younger man with awe, wondering how he could turn out so good, so kind, being raised by such a violent man.

Dean carefully extracted his hands from Castiel’s own, Castiel abruptly missing the warmth of skin against skin, and lifted his hands to just above Castiel’s wrists, not leaving his eyes.

“Can I?” Dean said, not really pleading but definitely insisting. Castiel, who wanted to remove his hands and bolt for the door, was completely frozen in his seat. He nodded slowly what felt like a few minutes later, eyes still locked on Dean’s own. The other man looked down at Castiel’s arms while Castiel himself had to look away, feeling Dean’s strong hands folding the sleeves upwards with slow, soft movements. Castiel could feel the man’s breath against his exposed skin, closing his eyes. Dean was stroking his hands up and down his forearms, a strange sensation and nothing like his own nails against his skin.

“These are recent,” Dean said with a whisper. He was not judging, voice mostly just sad. Castiel nodded without looking, fully aware of which ones the man was looking at. “When?” Dean asked, pressing his thumbs against the less faded scars.

“A…August,” Castiel managed to whisper, biting his own lip from the trembling in his voice. Dean stroked him once more.

“That’s three months, Cas. That’s good,” Dean said, and Castiel glanced at him at that, but quickly turned away. It wasn’t, it should be three years, it should be thirty-four-fucking years. Three months were nothing.

He gasped at the sensation of soft, wet skin against his own, looking back to see Dean having raised Castiel’s arms to his face, holding him steady by the wrists, kissing his upper arms gently, just one time on each side, before folding his hands in Castiel’s own once more.

“Don’t ever do it again,” Dean said, pleading this time, making Castiel’s eyes prickle with the sensation of tears that he quickly blinked away. “And if you feel like doing it, call me. I’ll be there, I’ll talk you out of it,” the man insisted, still holding his hands. Castiel wondered if Dean knew what a promise like that meant. In the end he just nodded, bewildered by it all.

“Okay, Cas?” Dean said, giving his forearm a squeeze, Castiel gasping, still unused to the sensation.

“Okay, Dean”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Protective Dean is my aesthetic.


	6. The Dancer (Candy store rock)

Castiel was sitting in his chair at work, actually getting something done for a change. Though he did not enjoy admitting it, Hannah was right. He had been distracted lately, the Winchester brothers giving him a lot to think about. He was actually looking forward to the upcoming Saturday and the opening of Gabriel’s new club that Castiel so far had not bothered to ask the name of. The night before, with Dean, had somehow been able to settle some of the tension in his chest. It felt good, talking about it. That did not mean he would walk around telling everyone, probably no one, maybe Sam if he came around to it and it felt natural. No, Dean was special. He had definitely handled it in a special way, at least. Castiel could not begin to tell him how much he appreciated his kind words and soothing hands. He made Castiel feel better. It had been a long time since anyone had that power over him. He knew it was not a bad thing, yet it still worried him.

They had talked for a couple of hours after their ‘sharing and caring’ moment, as Dean said it himself. Avoiding all the harder subjects, not bringing up their scars or pasts, just talking about cars and music. Dean did most of the talking. Castiel, feeling rather sedated and too warm for it to be just the result of the high room temperature, did not really mind. He found it fascinating, listening to the younger man talking proudly about his Baby, his 67 Chevy impala, that Castiel had not had the pleasure of seeing yet. It was a thing of beauty, according to Dean, and Castiel did not doubt him, more than certain that the older Winchester took good care of the car. He played some songs on his record player that once had belonged to their mother. He showed him some of his favorites from Led Zeppelin, Blue Oyster Cult and Lynyrd Skynyrd, among others that Castiel could not remember the name of. Castiel had asked if Dean himself played, nodding towards the guitar, and Dean had shyly said that he did, though not in front of anyone. Castiel told him he maybe would someday, and Dean had answered with a shrug and a maybe. Castiel believed him to be quite talented.

When he was leaving, he finally noticed how Dean had not released Castiel’s right hand all evening, holding it softly between his own left, while gesticulating and pointing with his other hand. It had felt natural and nice, and kept Castiel calm and smiling the entire evening. When Dean let go so Castiel could rise from the couch, he missed it. They left with a simple squeeze between their hands, Dean saying good night and Castiel saying one last thank you, not sure that even covered his gratitude for both the shower, food and comfort. Dean only smiled.

When he came home, it was beyond midnight, Castiel yawning loudly and already deciding to postpone his running until after work, when a message ticked in on his cell.

 **0:23AM, Dean:** Yo, Feathers. You forgot your wings.

Castiel looked at the message with wide eyes, mouth in a round O. He read it three times, but could not possibly begin to fathom the meaning of it.

 **0:26AM, Castiel:** Did I?

Not getting an answer right away, he went into his room, heading straight for the bathroom too brush his teeth and change out of Dean’s shirt and his own jeans, his black long sleeve still hanging to dry in Dean’s bathroom. He was heading for bed when the message finally came with a picture of Castiel’s wings from Halloween, lying on Dean’s desk, with the message beneath it:

 **0:34AM, Dean:** Maybe I’ll keep them, that way you can’t fly away.

Hannah came into the office after getting them both a cup of coffee. Castiel smiled gratefully at her.

“You’re an angel, Hannah,” he said, taking the black coffee from Lucy’s and feeling himself awakening at the sheer smell of it. Hannah laughed at that.

“No, that would be you, Castiel,” she said with a smirk. “Getting any work done today?” She sat down on the chair in front of him. Castiel, taking that as the sign of a coffee break, checked his e-mail quickly to see if there were any last entrances with their subjects for the term paper coming up in his modern literature class, when he saw the message from Cain. No subject line. He opened it, seeing the simple message:

_How is our little project going?_

Castiel did not answer it, closing his laptop and humming at the coffee in front of him.

“I am, actually. I fixed that paragraph I was talking about, makes much more sense now, and then I’m beginning on the last part before the conclusion next week,” he said, sipping the still too hot coffee with care. Hannah nodded.

“That’s good! The aliens have left the building then?”

Castiel chuckled.

“So it seems. What about you?”

They talked about their thesis for a while, both doing well and deciding they needed to reread the other’s parts again soon, so they were not mixed up. Hannah was going on and on about how much she enjoyed her current attempt to interpret the use of the angel Gadreel in this fiction book she was reading, when Castiel thought about Cain’s message.

“Hannah, how is it going with your mentee?” he said. Hannah, right in the middle of deciding, loudly, whom she personally would pick to play the role of Gadreel in a potential television series, looked at him with questioning eyes.

“What, you mean like Sam to you?” she said, Castiel nodding. She shook her head. “I’m not a mentor.”

Castiel tilted his head at that. “Are you not? Cain said he would ask you,” he said, wondering which other doctorates were mentoring the other ten or so students in the pile Cain had shown him previously that fall. Hannah shrugged.

“Well, he didn’t. Maybe he thought I had to be free to do all the extra work on our thesis that you’d be slacking out on, with your new buddy and all, huh?” She punched him gently in the shoulder, smiling at him. Castiel smiled in return. “Maybe some of the professors are helping out as well,” she said with a shrug. “They could definitely use a social life, such as yourself”.

Castiel grunted at that. After their break, about 15 minutes later when deciding the coffee was not magically going to refill itself, he answered Cain’s message with a simple:

_Good, making progress._

He was not sure if it was Sam or himself doing just that, though, and somehow got the feeling that to Cain – they were one and the same.

\-----

Castiel was driving the bus to Anna’s, Anna, being as miserable at cooking as Castiel, was ordering sushi from the shop straight across from her apartment building and had ordered Castiel to pick it up.

“I am tired, I am planning on getting wasted, and I am not under any circumstances putting on make-up to pick up that sushi. Me buying, you grabbing, deal?”

He chuckled at the memory of the phone conversation, chuckle turning into a deep sigh. This was a difficult day for Anna, which Castiel was well aware of by now, helping her to bed every November 5 the last eight years. It got easier with each year, luckily, for both of them. Last fall, Anna had even been able to carry herself to bed, though falling asleep the second she fell to the pillow. Castiel had tucked her in and slept on the couch, like every year, and went out to by two large blueberry muffins and a hot chocolate for breakfast, like every year. He would not be going into work before later that next day. Hannah, who had known him from before Michael, knew this very well. She had wished him luck and hugged him hard, and he had hugged her gratefully in return, before Castiel had left to reach the bus.

Suddenly his phone rang, though not his usual classical tune, which meant this was a Facebook call, and yup, Sam requesting a video chat. Castiel glanced quickly around the bus, seeing only a couple of girls in the back, both listening to music on one ear and talking about something on their cellphones while doing it. He plugged in his own hearing phones and accepted the call. Some blinking on the screen and Sam popped into view, Castiel already huffing at his own image in the corner.

“Hello, Sam. I am on the bus,” he said flatly.

“Oh, that’s cool,” Sam said, totally missing the point. “We’re still on for Saturday?” he questioned, dragging a hand through his long hair.

“I am afraid so, yes,” Castiel said, though smiling. Sam grinned.

“Nice, Jess is so excited,” he said, laughing loudly when the blonde suddenly came into view, pushing him away from the phone. “Hey!”

Jess grinned at Castiel. “Hi, Castiel! Sam’s not kidding though, I’m looking _so_ forward to it, like Charlie, I’ve read like all his books, and watched most of his movies, but have never been to one of his clubs before, and I can’t believe I’m actually meeting him!” She squealed a little at the end, earning a groan and a snort from Sam, and she punched him with a laugh.

“Then you probably know more about my own brother than I do myself,” Castiel said, smiling at the couple, now both sharing the camera space. “Sam, I wanted to know if it was okay to ask Dean as well?” he asked, his heart beating a little faster in his chest at the request. Sam opened his mouth to answer when a gruff voice came from the background.

“Ask me what?”

And his heart stopped.

“We’re going to a strip club, wanna join?” Sam asked nonchalantly, as if he was asking his brother to do the dishes or go to the mall. Sam looked back at his brother who was walking towards the camera now, eyes squinting at it to see clearer. He smiled then.

“I’m game. Hi, Feathers,” he said, winking at Castiel through the camera lens.

“Hello, Dean”.

“Feathers? What do you… oh, the wings, I get it,” Sam said and returned his gaze back to Castiel. “How are we getting there? Charlie said it was practically on the other side of town”.

Castiel shrugged, still feeling a little fuzzy at the sight of Dean that had removed himself from the image and was, at the sound of it, doing something in the kitchen. “The bus, I guess?” he said, which earned him a bark from Dean that came into view once more, Sam adjusting the camera so he only saw half of Jess and all of Dean, standing in the kitchen doorway.

“I’m not driving the bloody bus, we’re taking Baby,” he said determined gesticulating with a spatula for good measure, before walking back into the kitchen. Jessica laughed and Sam returned the image to the two of them.

“Well, that’s settled then,” Sam said, grinning at his girlfriend. “Shall we pick you up, Castiel?”

Castiel, preferring not to have five new people seeing his apartment building at once, shook his head. “No, I’ll come to you,” he said with a smile, noticing his stop coming up and walking towards the door. “Eating with Anna now, probably won’t be by the phone for a while,” he said. Dean returned to view in the background, but did not say anything.

“Everything alright?” Sam asked worriedly, but Castiel just shrugged.

“Yeah, just… tough day,” he said, getting a nod and a genuine smile from both Sam and Jess. They said their goodbyes and hung up. Castiel went off the bus and straight into the sushi shop, grabbing their order, before walking across the road and locking himself inside Anna’s building. He took the stairs up to the third floor, walking two steps at the time. His phone ticked.

 **5:46PM, Dean** : Call me if you need anything. I mean it.

Castiel smiled at that, entering the third floor and walking into Anna’s hallway. He took a deep breath at the door. The second year post-accident, he had walked in on her dancing the waltz by herself to a Frank Sinatra song Castiel didn’t remember, mascara-black tears running down her cheeks, singing out of tune when her sobbing didn’t become to desperate. He had walked towards her, brushing away her tears and had pulled her into a long hug. They had been dancing together all night after that, sharing a bottle of champagne and eating Twinkies, which Michael had loved more than anything. The fifth year, Anna was already drowsing on the couch, so much booze in her system that she couldn’t even get herself to sleep. They had watched old black and white movies all night, they were Ezekiel’s favorite, while Anna was lying in Castiel’s lap, Castiel petting her hair and humming to the tunes on the television. She had fallen asleep in his arms. The sixth and seventh year had been better, both times being able to eat dinner together in some harmony before falling into a mess of beer and tears and heartfelt memories. Castiel did not even want to think about the first year, shivering at the near thought of thinking about it.

He knocked on the door before unlocking it.

“Anna?” he yelled, walking inside. He did not see her at first, which made his heart bounce a little in her chest. “Anna!” She was not in the living room, and not in the kitchen. He went to her bathroom, but did not hear the shower. His heart bounced once more. He went towards her bedroom, taking a deep breath.

It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s okay.

He opened it.

Anna was lying on the bed facing up, feet sprawled out to each side of it and…

She was wearing earplugs.

He could hear her humming to the music

He could feel his heart falling hard in his chest as he let all his breath out, almost gasping. He must have made an even more exasperated sound because Anna suddenly rose onto a seating position on her bed with a smile on her face.

“Hey, little brother! Didn’t hear you come in”.

They ate in peace, talking about the Halloween party, Anna laughing her head off at the thought of Castiel’s first bad trip with alcohol, and listening gently as the big sister she was as he talked about Dean and his interests for movies, music and cars. He talked about Sam as well, but he knew Anna could tell that Sam was not the one making Castiel look distantly out the window as they sat down after dinner. She did not say anything though.

When Castiel went to get the beers, Anna had pulled him by the sleeve and shaken her head.

“Leave it,” she had said. “I got you, that’s all I need”. And he had smiled at that, then pulled her in for a hug. They had watched cartoons all evening, Anna eventually wanting to crash around 1AM, and Castiel had let her. She had told him to go home if he wanted it, but Castiel had no intention of leaving. It had become a tradition after all. He cleaned himself up and laid his head down to rest on the couch when he pulled his cellphone out, seeing another message from Dean.

 **11:14PM, Dean:** Working the night shift if you wanna call.

Castiel looked at the message. He locked his phone, figuring he should get to sleep. He had a class at noon. Still, he could not shake the need to take Dean up on his offer. Anna had done great, better than ever. She had cried in his lap when an old cartoon, one the three of them used to watch together in bed when Michael was sick and Ezekiel was out travelling with work, but otherwise, nothing. He was proud of her. She was being brave. It made him wanting to be as well.

The call came through after only one ring.

“Cas? You okay?”

He sounded concerned, which warmed Castiel’s heart more than it should.

“I am fine, Dean. Thank you. How is your shift?”

“Oh, don’t you dare turn this around on me. I heard your voice on the phone earlier. What’s up with your sister?”

Castiel let out a small laugh at that, mostly surprised. Had Dean really been able to hear his own worriedness over the phone?

“It’s a long story, for another time, I think.” The other end went silent for a while, Castiel wondering if he was even there anymore.

“Promise you’ll tell?” Dean asked, sounding tired.

Castiel nodded, realizing Dean could not see him. He had gotten so used to Sam’s video calls.

“I promise,” he said. “Why are you working at this hour? I did not even know mechanics had night shifts”. Dean chuckled on the other end.

“They don’t, I’m taking a few shifts at the Roadhouse,” he said, yawning. “Didn’t get that much sleep last night after you left, got up early to go to work. Got an hour or two when I got home before leaving for the bar, though. I’ll be good until morning”.

Castiel was not so sure about that. “You need to sleep, Dean. Don’t you have work again tomorrow?”

“I do, but not before later in the day, and then I’ll be working here Friday evening, but have Saturday off. And then we’re apparently going to a strip club, what’s up with that?”

Castiel could hear the attempt at changing the subject, and considering all Dean already had done for Castiel, Castiel decided to play along.

“Yes, well, my brother is quite the artist,” he said, yawning as well. Dean chuckled once more.

“So I’ve heard, Jess filled me in. Guess you have to bring me up to speed on both your siblings later on, huh?”

Castiel huffed. “I can do that”.

“Good, now get some sleep, should enjoy it those who can,” Dean said. Castiel hummed, feeling the drowsiness taking him in.

“Goodnight, Dean”.

“’Night, Cas”.

\----

Saturday arrived before Castiel had even called Gabriel about the address. He had never actually accepted Gabriel’s invitation to come, but Castiel did that just to be the annoying big brother he felt obliged to be, making Gabriel send him several GIFs of crying babies and wounded unicorns. It was quite hilarious really. He eventually caved Saturday morning, calling his brother a few minutes to noon after making his usual run to the lake. It had not been raining since the sky came falling down on Castiel that Wednesday, so he had gone through the woods, and ran slower as he approached the lake, he let out a relieved breath, no one in sight. He wanted to ask Dean about the brunette and the kid, though he figured it was a question for another day. Definitely not today, anyway.

Gabriel answered the phone with the most annoyed grunt a man of 5,8 could muster up.

“Big bro, I thought you knew me well enough to not call before noon! I’m sleeping!”

“Your million dollar investment of a club is opening in seven hours, and you’re sleeping?”

Another grunt.

“Fair point. Give me five minutes and a coffee and I’ll call you back”.

Gabriel hung up, and Castiel sighed, making himself a cup of coffee of his own, when the phone rang. Castiel put him on speaker so he could cuddle the coffee mug between both his palms, enjoying the warmth.

“Yes, Gabriel?”

“Stop with the Gabriel, I’m as far from an angel as you could possibly get, it makes me fall all… glittery,” Gabriel said with a huff, making Castiel laugh.

“My apologies, I was just calling to ask when we should arrive this evening,” Castiel said, sipping his coffee while listening to the huffs and puffs on the other end, Gabriel obviously looking for something. Gabriel, being as forgetful and chronically absent as a person could be without getting themselves killed, Castiel was rather amazed at how much his younger brother had accomplished, no matter what choice of profession he had made for himself.

“I got to meet and greet and sing a little first, you know the drill, shake some hands, do a little dance, so around 9, 10, 11, who knows, just show whenever, say my full name and they’ll give you free alcohol at the bar. Wait a minute. We? Did you say we? Is Anna coming?”

Castiel shook his head with repressed frustration at his brother. Gabriel really had a whole other speed than most people.

“No, she is not; you know she would never go to one of your abominations”.

“Hannah?”

“No, she’s at her parents’ house this weekend”.

The other end went silent.

“But… that’s the only friends you got?”

Castiel rose his brows.

“I got friends,” he said, a little offended.

“You really don’t”

Castiel grunted. “I have now. Five, in fact. They are all coming. Some of them, god knows why, even enjoys your work. Fine by you?”

“They’re alive?”

“Gabriel…”

“And not animals?”

“That was one time!”

“Just saying! Bring whomever; I cannot wait to meet the ones that has finally warmed my big brother’s icy heart. Aah, is there a love interest there?” Castiel bit his lip, not being able to think of something to say fast enough, which said more than enough in itself. “Oh my god, it is? Oh, now I really can’t wait, I’ll make all the grunts skedaddle at 10, meet me in the back!”

And he hung up, leaving Castiel blushing. He really hoped Gabriel had enough tact to realize that a ‘love interest’ as he said it, did not always happen to be reciprocated. Knowing Gabriel though, he did not.

\-----

As promised, Castiel had arrived at the Winchesters’ around 8PM. Dean was waiting outside, leaning against the black monster of a car. Castiel attempted a whistle, failing miserably and making Dean laugh, which made Castiel grin more than any successful whistle would.

“Beautiful, huh?” Dean had said, holding his arms to the side in a ‘look at this beauty’ gesture. Castiel had nodded, looking equally at Dean as at the car. Dean was wearing black slacks, black shoes and a white shirt, making his tan skin even tanner. Like always, the sleeves were rolled up. Castiel himself was wearing a light blue shirt, sleeves down, over faded grey jeans and his brown leather shoes. Dean had walked straight up to him, taking his collar in hand, making Castiel flinch for a second, before unbuttoning the fourth button and patting his chest lightly.

“Very beautiful,” Castiel had said. Dean’s was smile satisfied as he looked back at the car. They had both been leaning up against it, Castiel telling Dean about his conversation with Gabriel earlier that day (obviously leaving out the last part), making the other man laugh, when Sam and Jess came walking out of the apartment.

“Jesus, guys, what took you so long? Needed to try out a few of those pointers in Gabe’s books before leaving, huh?” Dean said, still laughing. He punched his brother in the shoulder. The couple both blushed fiercely and Dean grunted. “Aah, you guys are disgusting, get in the car!”

And so they did, Castiel riding shotgun at Dean’s request. They were waiting for Charlie and Jo at Charlie’s apartment, Dean saying they had practically moved in together already. Sam had chuckled in the backseat.

“A little rushed, don’t you think?” Sam had said, Jessica humming in agreement. Castiel had just shrugged noncommittally, Dean giving him a questioning look.

“You don’t agree, Cas?” he had asked, all eyes on Castiel. Castiel had hesitated for a moment, thinking about saying the first thing that came to mind, which was telling them about the accident. He had told Sam that Anna’s family had passed, but in passing, not going into detail. He decided not to do that now as well, eventually saying:

“’Death comes soon enough. Why hesitate with doing what you plan on doing eventually anyway? If they like each other, and enjoy the other’s company, why postpone their own happiness just because some society norm tells them it’s ‘too soon’ or ‘inappropriate’? Tomorrow, or the next day, one of them might die in a car crash or by some freak accident, and I doubt the other will look back and think: ‘Oh well, at least we didn’t rush things’. No, they will mourn their missed opportunity to love each other like they wanted to, to do all the things they decided to wait with doing. They should embrace the moment. Before they know it, the moment is gone, and all that’s left is mourning”.

The three others were silent. Castiel, feeling slightly embarrassed, did not feel like looking at them so he stared out the window at Charlie’s apartment door instead. Sam eventually coughed in the backseat.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to be insensitive,” he said, voice low. Jessica looked surprised at Sam. Dean, however, did not look away from Castiel. Castiel assumed Sam must have told him. Castiel eventually coughed.

“I know, Sam. I’m sorry as well,” he said, clearing his throat. He met Dean’s eyes, giving him a reassuring smile, Dean clearly not convinced.

“Wohooo, we’re going on a road trip, we’re going on a road trip!” Charlie sang loudly, her and Jo pressed inside the car beside Sam and Jess. It was rather intimate, though they did not seem to mind.

“Technically it’s just a twenty minute ride, but we’re going to a strip club, which is far better in my opinion,” Dean had said with a wink, and the three girls had all giggled, Sam rolling his eyes and Castiel not saying a word. He himself - Not a big fan of strip clubs. No surprise there.

They showed up outside of the club at the clock around twenty minutes later. It was only around 8:30, but the line outside the entrance had to be several miles long, young and old, suits and dresses, pushing and pulling at each other, some already too drunk to stand up straight. Oh, Castiel really did not like strip clubs.

“That line is going to take forever!” Charlie exclaimed, Jo nodding in agreement, holding her girlfriend’s hand tightly. Castiel just waved at them, heading towards the entrance and one of the security guards standing there. It was a large, bald, black man, looking like he would kill a man on the spot if necessary. Castiel could hear the others following behind him, nervous whispers between the girls. Dean stepped up beside him, laying a hand on his upper back for just a second, before letting it fall to his side. Castiel took it as an acknowledgement that he was by his side, though grateful, it was not needed.

“Hello, Uriel,” he said to the black man, smiling at him. The man, seeing Castiel, grinned in return, changing his whole appearance in a second.

“Castiel! Gabriel told me you were coming, I haven’t seen you in ages! What, must have been at the premiere of ‘Down at the farm’, remember?”

Castiel huffed at that, remembering both the movie and sitting between Uriel and Gabriel through the entire premiere. He had never felt so misplaced his entire life, closing his eyes in pure pain at seeing his brother acting in one of his own porn films. Or ‘erotica’ as Gabriel called it.

“Sadly, I do remember. Me and my friends are just going to hang out at the bar until Gabriel returns from his… errands,” Castiel said, gesturing to the five of them standing a few feet behind him, all looking a little bewildered at the interaction. Uriel just nodded, opening the door for them, getting a few grunts and curse words from the others in line, which Uriel completely ignored.

Charlie grabbed his hand the moment they came inside.

“I’m totally friends with a celebrity!” she squealed, jumping up and down at the spot. “That was so awesome, did you see the look on their faces?”

Castiel looked down at her. “I did, it was, in fact, rather awesome,” he said, smiling. Jo grabbed her by the other arm and dragged her further into the club, both bouncing with excitement. Jessica and Sam stepped up right behind them, and Dean came to walk beside Castiel.

“Wow, look at Cas going all badass, who knew?” he said, nudging him in the shoulder. Castiel smiled in return.

“I would hardly call that being badass, more like having connections,” Castiel said, shrugging. Dean laughed at that, squeezing Castiel’s arm lightly.

“You’re so full of yourself,” he said jokingly, and followed the others towards the bar. Castiel smiled against the other man’s back, following them.

\----

They ordered drinks, Dean, being the designated driver, had a soda, the rest beers and Charlie a weird fruity cocktail called ‘Gabealeiba’, which no one really knew what contained, though they all told Charlie to go easy with it. She did not, leaving her and Jo dancing wildly on the dance floor a few minutes later, Sam and Jessica close behind them. There were several tables around the open floor, all occupied, so Dean and Castiel sat down by the bar, eyeing their friends with laughter.

“Not big on the dancing?” Dean asked Castiel, moving in closer to his ear so they could hear each other. Castiel shook his head, turning to Dean.

“Are you?” he asked. Dean gave him a smirk, as Charlie came up to them, face almost as flushed as her red hair.

“Dean, come on! Wanna dance! I wanna dance!” she whined, dragging him by the wrist. Dean laughed at her.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming! Don’t ruin me though, I’m getting stiff with old age,” he said with a wink and a smile in Castiel’s direction, Charlie huffing and dragging him to the floor.

And he could dance. Castiel almost blushed at the moves he and Charlie were doing, Dean swaying his hips with the music, giving Charlie a twirl and lifting her up from the floor while Charlie was yelling ‘I’m flying!’ to the surrounding people’s amusement. Jo came up beside Castiel, panting a little and downing the rest of Dean’s abandoned soda. She grinned and jumped up in the seat beside him, nodding towards Charlie and Dean dancing on the floor, stepping up their game as an even faster song began playing.

“Pretty good, huh?” Jo said, smiling wildly at the redhead. Castiel looked at them with agreement.

“I didn’t know De…, ehm, they could dance,” he said, scratching his neck. Jo smiled.

“Dean always knew how to dance. I haven’t known Charlie all her life, but I’ve always known Dean, and that boy could always shake those hips like that,” she said, laughing at the pair doing a particularly interesting move, including them both down on their knees. Castiel looked at her.

“You knew the brothers from before?” he asked, looking at her with interest. She nodded.

“Oh yeah, Sam didn’t tell you? I’m from Kansas, like they are. My mom knew Mary and John. They were friends, you know, before it all went down the shithole”. She looked at Castiel with a shrug. “Dean and I are the same age, so we hung out a lot until they left for good. Like Dean I was only four when Mary passed and don’t remember a whole lot from that time, but I remember Dean and Sam driving through once a month with their dad, John feeling the need to keep track of their old house for some reason, checking up on it from time to time. Before John really fell of the wagon, not that he was ever on it, they came by our place to have dinner. My mother wanted to help out, telling John he could keep the boys for a while if he wanted some alone time. One time she got to insistent, John asking her if she did not trust him to take care of his own kids. I think Dean was around 14 back then? Sam 10. Anyway, the argument got heated and he never returned”.

Castiel looked gravely at her, turning to watch the two Winchester brothers, happily dancing out on the floor, both grinning and laughing at each other and their own dancing partners.

“Five years later, the impala parked in our doorway, me and my mom walking out in shock, not believing our eyes. We never really thought we would see either one of them again, but there they were. Dean driving and Sam riding shotgun. Dean did not say a word for a couple of days, just hugged my mom and myself and went to his room, not eating and barely sleeping. It took a few days before he came out, and that’s when we finally learned about all the abuse”. She huffed. “I’ve never seen my mom so pissed in her life, and that’s saying something”.

She looked at Castiel, who seemed more thoughtful than shocked at her words. “He told you about it, didn’t he? The abuse?”

Castiel nodded. “He did,” he said, looking at the mechanic and his brother doing what he thought was called the robot dance on the dance floor. “I find it quite amazing how easily he could show off his marks like that, telling other people about it. He told me the stories, it was rather awful.” He pinched his brows. “I’m glad I never got to meet John Winchester, and somehow feel sorry for everyone that did”.

Jo blinked at him, tilting her head a little. Castiel looked at her with a questioning expression. “What?” he asked. She cleared her throat.

“He haven’t told me about any of them,” she said slowly, looking at Castiel with eyebrows raised. “I only know he have them from his own few and short words from eight years ago about John taking his anger out on him. My mother begged for Dean to show him, to explain, but he never did, only went with her to the doctor to have them all checked out”. She shook her head. “I’m not even sure Sam has seen them all, let alone heard the backstory of any of them, though Sam, poor Sam, were there to witness a lot of it”.

Castiel shook his head in disbelief at that. The ease in Dean’s voice as he pointed to mark after mark, the willingness to let Castiel touch him, to ask questions. “I don’t understand. He did not seem embarrassed by them. And it isn’t his fault. Why wouldn’t he?” Castiel asked, thinking of his own scars and how stupid they made him feel, how weak. Jo just shrugged.

“Honestly? I don’t think it’s about embarrassment or appearance. He knows it’s not his fault,” she said, looking back at Dean. “He wants to protect John, protect his memory. I think, somewhere deep down, he knows he’s the only one left that gives a shit about John, as you may have noticed, Sam stopped caring a long time ago. And showing of the evidence of John’s abuse is just another way of destroying that memory”. She shrugged once more, looking at Castiel and smiling at him. “Which makes you different, huh?”

Castiel looked at her with wary, eyes squinting. “What do you mean?”

But Jo was only able to smile knowingly before the rest of the gang came walking up to them, pearls of sweat on their forehead, all smiling. Dean dragging a hand through his damp hair with a grin towards Cas.

“Time to meet the fam?”

\----

Castiel led the others towards the back were Gabriel had told him to meet up with him. Castiel had been there with Gabriel to check out the location a year back, back when the place still was cramped with offices, white walls and decorative art. It was not close to recognizable now, but it was not all that hard finding the entrance to the dancers area. Like anticipated, the dancers, not starting their show before 10PM, which was about five minutes from now, were running around, helping each other get dressed, both men and women alike. Wigs, dresses, panties and stilettos were lying around the floor where they were walking.

A brunette woman with a short man following her, bounced into Jessica. Jess shot her hands up in the air with an ‘umph’ and ‘I’m sorry’. The woman looked at her, not saying a word, but pressing herself up against the curly blonde, wearing only a red body and a devil’s tail. Jess looked at her with wide eyes, but didn’t move.

“You want me to give you a lap dance, hon?” the woman said, British accent and a devious grin. Jess eyes grew wider by the second, Sam opening his mouth to say something as the smaller man, dressed in black with dark hair patted the devil on her back.

“We don’t have time for this, Bela. You’re on in three,” he said, British voice screaming how tired he was of all this bullshit. The woman smirked at Jess, but let her go.

“Whatever you say, Crowley baby,” she said with an easy smile towards the rest of them. “Enjoy the show, ladies. Boys”. They went further into the crowd. Jessica let out a withheld breath and laughed.

“Is my gaydar of, or was she totally trying to eat me up?” Jessica said with a squeal and a questioning look at the two girls, Sam pulling her in for a one armed hug and a possessive kiss to the head.

“Most of the workers here are bisexual, or pan, or however you feel like labeling it,” Castiel said, smiling at Jess with understanding. He had been hit on by more than one of Gabriel’s dancers before. “Gabriel prefers it that way, makes it easier for them to dance and please both genders”.

Dean huffed, patting Jessica on the back. “That’s considerate of him,” he said with a grin towards Castiel, Castiel smiling at him in return.

“I suppose. He’s actually extremely attentive to his workers, making sure they all feel comfortable. One of his better qualities,” Castiel said, leading them towards the last door in the corridor, Gabriel already standing outside with a smug smile.

“Are you hinting to my sack of qualities being small, big brother?” Gabriel said with a smirk, eyeing the five people standing next to Castiel with a decisive look. “After all, I’m all about making people comfortable, whatever it takes. Want to come inside?”

They did, Gabriel shaking hands with every single one of them, lingering a little longer at both Sam and Dean, and oh didn’t Gabriel knew him better than he gave him credit for, Gabriel turning away from Dean and looking at Castiel while mouthing ‘Hot!’ with a huge grin. Castiel rolled his eyes. Gabriel’s office was full of posters of his movies and book deals, plastering the pink walls beneath them. On every available surface, there were bowls of different candy, something for every taste. He was like a walking and talking Willy Wonka, though somehow managed to stay in fairly good shape, which never ceased to amaze Castiel.

Gabriel talked about the club, the movies, the books, well, all about Gabriel really, which Castiel hardly found surprising. His five friends were asking questions with open and interested faces, even Sam seemed to get a little into it after a while, finding Gabriel’s detail for economy and order to be impressive. Castiel did as well, considering his brother’s complete lack of control in every other aspect of his life, but of course, they did not know that.

Having heard it all before, Castiel sat down at his brother’s desk and smiled brightly at the dozen of framed pictures occupying it. Anna and Ezekiel’s wedding, Gabriel and Castiel as teenagers, Gabriel as a baby and, oh. He had not seen a picture of his parents in a long time, stretching out a hand to take the frame from its place. His mother, Hester, was wearing a dark blue gown, and his father, Zachariah, a black suit. He could not remember when it was from, but the picture looked old and they looked young. He must have been no more than a toddler when it was taken.

“Are those your parents?” Dean suddenly said from behind him, voice low to not disturb Gabriel’s monologue, though the two couples listening looked too far gone in his words to notice a fire alarm going off at that point. Castiel nodded, confirming it.

“Gabriel not a big fan, huh?” Dean said with a suppressed laugh. Castiel smiled as he noticed the moustache drawn onto both their faces, a pig tail going out from Hester’s behind and a devil’s tail from Zachariah’s.

“He did that to every single picture I had of them in my apartment. Anna’s as well. I had completely forgotten about it, until now,” Castiel said, chuckling once more at the image and putting it back. He smiled up at Dean. “It’s a long story,” he said with a sigh. Dean nodded at him, smiling.

“I can’t wait to hear it,” he said, laying a hand on Castiel’s shoulder and squeezing it gently. Dean pointed to another picture.

“Who’s the kid?” he asked, Castiel turning around to see the picture of himself with Michael on his back. Looking at it now, it reminded him of the picture of Dean and John on Dean’s nightstand. He swallowed hard, which Dean seemed to notice, returning his pointing hand to Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel opened his mouth to answer when Gabriel threw his hands out, grinning.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you and all, but I have to get my beautiful behind out there to do a little dance of my own with my ladies,” he said, turning around to look at Castiel. “I’m glad to see your friends our alive, well and not furry, please bring them along some other time,” he said with a smirk, Castiel shooting him a warning glare. “Oh, and don’t leave before you’ve seen my show, please. I promise to be extra bendy, just for you”.

And he was, extra bendy, the girls giggling at the sight and both Sam and Dean looking with open mouths and raised brows. Castiel, already too familiar with the sight, sipped his beer and smiled at the look on his friends’ faces. They were happy, which made him happy as well. This ‘outing’ had been a good idea after all.

“That should not be physically possible,” Dean said, tilting his head at one especially ‘bendy’ move, Sam greatly agreeing.

“It really shouldn’t,” the younger Winchester said, scratching his head and grinning at Jess with a ‘don’t expect me to do the same’ look. Dean, however, looked at Castiel with a crooked smile, making Castiel’s knees feel like jelly in his seat, thankful for sitting down.

“I wonder if it’s a family trait,” Dean said, winking at Castiel.

And he was officially screwed.


	7. The Child (In the evening)

They stayed to see Gabriel do his number, then they stayed a little longer after that, and before Castiel had even had time to check his watch, it was quickly moving towards 3AM. Having danced and talked all night, even Castiel doing some very stiff and painfully embarrassing moves out on the floor, then pausing to watch the ‘real’ dancers doing their routines. They were really good, even the devil, Bela, sending kisses and winks their way, probably spotting Jessica’s curly blond hair in the crowd, or maybe Sam, freakishly tall and all.

When they finally decided to cave in, they were all tired and happily buzzed on alcohol, except for Dean of course, though Dean seemed more tired than all of them put together. He yawned loudly right in the middle of lifting Jessica up in the air, when they called it a night.

“You good to drive?” Sam had asked Dean, worry in his voice, and Dean had punched his brother with unnecessary force.

“Better than you, drunk!” Dean exclaimed, earning a bitch face in return. They returned to their previous seating positions, Dean turning Led Zeppelin on loudly on the stereo, probably to keep himself awake. The three girls were all dowsing of in the backseat, even Sam struggling to keep his eyes open. Castiel smiled at Dean, and the other man smiled in return, but they did not talk the entire drive, just listened to the music and enjoyed the sensation of leaving a good night behind them.

They sat Charlie and Jo of first at Charlie’s place, Jessica nearly having to push the girls out of the car, both stumbling towards the apartment door.

“Shouldn’t we follow them upstairs, make sure they get to bed?” Castiel asked, not wanting to move himself, but Dean just shrugged.

“Nah, as long as they’re inside, they can sleep on the stairs for all I care. They got each other. They’re good”.

So they drove on, Dean going for a right turn when Jessica piped up from behind, eyes closed and leaning on Sam’s shoulder: “Staying at my place”.

Dean looked in the rearview mirror, Sam nodding in agreement, and Dean continued forward. Turned out Jessica did not live too far away from Castiel, though Castiel had not told Dean, nor Sam, just where that was. After letting the young couple out, making sure they, like the two girls, at least made their way inside, Dean turned to Castiel.

“Where to?” he asked, smiling tiredly. He looked like he could fall over and sleep right that second, blinking rapidly to keep his eyes from getting dry and trying to stay awake. Castiel felt sorry for him, knowing he still had more than an a twenty minute ride back home.

“I can walk from here,” Castiel said, making an attempt to remove his seatbelt, but Dean laid a hand over Castiel’s own, Castiel looking up at the man.

“It’s almost 3:30AM; I’m not making you walk home. Now, where to?”

So Castiel guided him towards his apartment, not taking more than three minutes tops, but Dean insisting on driving anyway. Castiel was grateful, feeling way too tired to walk outside in the middle of the night. Dean parked outside his apartment building, looking out of the window and up, then back at Castiel.

“So, this is you, huh?” he said, smiling. Castiel just nodded, looking at where Dean was looking. The dark grey color of the walls were fainted, desperately screaming for a new stroke of paint. There had not been any attempt at fixing the place up since Castiel moved there seven years ago. He really did not mind. If there was a problem with the pluming or the electricity, the janitor came when called, and the rest Castiel could live with or handle himself.

“It’s not much, I know. But it’s enough, for now”. Dean didn’t say anything to that, and they fell into silence, Dean yawning once, Castiel looking at him with a distant gaze. “This was nice,” Castiel said, eventually. “I enjoyed getting to parade you as my friends for the night”.

Dean chuckled at that. “You can ‘parade’ us as your friends any night, Cas,” he said with a smile towards the older man, Castiel smiling in return.

“I hope so,” he said, Dean yawning again. Castiel felt bad for Dean, driving home like that. He really shouldn’t, unfocused and tired, the likelihood of driving of the road or not seeing a stop sign getting larger by the minute. The likelihood of screaming at the man in the seat next to him, throwing a fit, making the young boy in the back cry out with tears, making the woman yell in warning, not seeing the black car coming straight towards him. He took a deep breath, feeling his heart rate increasing and bit his lip, dragging his teeth through his lower lip in a slow movement. He saw Dean watching him, gaze falling from Castiel’s own, then down to his lips and up to his eyes once more. Castiel breathed out. “You… you can come up? If you want?” he said, eventually, voice trembling. Dean’s eyebrows went up in surprise, opening his mouth to say something, but the words didn’t come. Castiel shot his gaze down, heart speeding faster and hands going immediately to his own forearms, feeling the desperate need to scratch there, to feel something else than the voice in his head telling him what a bloody fool he was, how he completely misread the situation. Dean didn’t want to be his friend and definitely not more than just his friend. “I mean, I didn’t mean, I just meant since you’re so tired, and I don’t want you to fall asleep on the road, and I have a couch, I could sleep there, but maybe you better just go home, sleep in your own bed, that’s better, much better”. It was all one long ramble, his right hand grazing over his left arm, but not scratching it, he needed to be better than that, he promised Dean to be better. He went for the doorknob, halfway through opening the door when Dean laid a hand gently around Castiel’s wrist, holding him back. Castiel turned around to look at the older Winchester. His pupils were large from lack of light and sleep, lips slightly a part as if he still wanted to say something and a furrow of concentration painted his forehead.

“C-Can I see you again?” Dean said, voice trembling slightly, earning a surprised noise from back in Castiel’s throat. He was declining the invitation, though not declining Castiel himself. “Soon, next week? Friday?”

Castiel looked at the other man, still holding Castiel’s wrist in his own. They held each other’s gaze for a while, Castiel as unsure of himself and his interpretation of the situation before him as he ever thought he could be. Eventually he nodded.

“I would like that,” he said, voice low and hoarse from a night of talking too loud and laughing too hard. Dean removed his grip on Castiel’s wrist and took his hand instead, squeezing it. Castiel squeezed Dean’s in return. No one feeling the need to say more after that, Castiel let go of Dean’s hand and went inside his apartment.

\----

“Good morning, sunshine!” Sam exclaimed, walking into Castiel’s office the following Tuesday, carrying a tray of two coffee cups and a bag of something that smelled too sweet for it to be coming from Sam ‘Salad for lunch everyday’ Winchester. Sam glanced at Hannah’s empty desk and sat down in front of Castiel with a big smile on his face. Castiel might have mentioned Hannah’s interest in Sam, and after that, Sam always seemed a little wary around the older woman. Castiel had failed to mention how Hannah already had moved on to a young science professor called Efram. He actually found Sam’s distress slightly amusing. The sweet scent turned out to be from two large chocolate covered buns which, when Castiel chewed into it, turned out to be filled with chocolate as well, the brown gooey stuff dribbling down both the men’s lips and chins, both laughing.

“What is this?” Castiel huffed with a chuckle, grabbing them both napkins to dry their faces.

“Lucifer called them ‘the bomb’, saying I had to bring them to you next time I saw you,” Sam said, taking another bite and smiling between chews. “He sure got a thing for you, I even got them for free,” Sam said, swallowing and grinning. Castiel rolled his eyes, though the buns were amazing. He doubted they would keep him full for the rest of the day, though. He finished his off, drying his face once again and taking a large sip from his coffee.

“I am fairly certain he knows I won’t come around after our last attempt at a date,” Castiel said with a smile. “I also heard he’s currently dating some blond British doctorate, though I don’t remember his name. However, this was kind of him”. He took another sip of his coffee, Sam humming in agreement.

“Speaking of kind,” Sam began, drying of his own hands. “Dean told me you asked him to sleep at your place”.

Castiel coughed, almost swallowing his own tongue.

“He did?” he managed to cough out, squealing. Sam looked at him with amusement.

“You okay, dude?” he asked, Castiel just nodding so he would not go into another coughing spree. “Didn’t your parents told you how to eat right?” Sam laughed at the sight of Castiel’s face, slowly regaining its natural, not-red-color. He grimaced.

“They did, one of the only things they actually managed to teach me that stuck,” he said, coughing one last time and smiling wryly at Sam.

“Well anyway, yeah, he did. That was nice of you. I wanted to tell Jessica to sleep at ours, so Dean didn’t have to drive all around town, but she needed to pick up some stuff at home. Dean was so exhausted, I could tell”. Sam furrowed his brows. “He doesn’t get enough sleep most of the time, working as much as he does, and when he finally gets to sleep, he just… doesn’t. Playing the guitar or writing instead, paying bills, doing all those other things you should be doing during daytime hours. He’s somewhat of an insomniac”.

Castiel nodded. He had figured that one out by himself already.

“Anyway, he really should have taken you up on your offer, but Dean’s just too damn proud to receive help when given”. Sam shook his head and shrugged. Castiel nodded slowly, wondering if Dean had told Sam the story the way he actually believed it happened, or he had left the not-so-platonic part out for Castiel’s benefit. He could not tell.

“It looks like the two of you are doing better?” Castiel asked, looking at Sam and Sam shrugged once more.

“I guess? Maybe, I don’t know. He’s not good at the talking stuff, but I see some improvement. He even came and talked to me about the picture of John in his bedroom the other day. Told me he’d throw it out if that was what I wanted. It’s not, I want him to _want_ to throw it out, but I appreciated the gesture anyway,” Sam said, leaning back in his chair.

“When was this?” Castiel asked, remembering his and Dean’s conversation on that exact picture the previous Wednesday. Sam thought for a second.

“Hmm, Thursday? Friday? I don’t remember, but he said you guys had been talking about it,” Sam said, surprising Castiel. Sam smiled at him. “I think you have a good influence on him. You should stick around, maybe he’ll change for the better,” Sam said, laughing, sipping his coffee with a grin.

Castiel smiled in return.

“I intend to”.

\-----

Castiel hadn’t talked all that much with Dean since that Saturday, they had just sent a few texts back and forth. Castiel checked his phone constantly, wanting Dean to send him something, something personal, something non-personal, just anything. The worst part of the lack of communication was how Castiel figured Dean had just been trying to be nice last Saturday, the caring man that he was, and had wanted to let Castiel down easy. When Thursday evening came and went, and Dean still hadn’t mentioned a word about their upcoming, if at all, plans the next day, Castiel fell in on himself.

He felt so foolish, sitting on the bathroom floor like a small child. He had turned the shower on, listening to the soothing sound of water falling to the floor, feeling the warm, damp air that filled the room with every minute passing. Ever since the accident, ever since Castiel first put a razor blade towards his own thin skin, he had been doing this. It made him calmer somehow, often helping him to relax and pull himself out of it. Castiel tried to remember to breathe, but he was spiraling, knowing it was stupid, knowing he had just put himself out there for disappointment. The fact that he knew it was the only thing keeping him up straight. He could still be friends with Sam, and Charlie, Jo, Jess, even if Dean didn’t feel comfortable with being around him. He could accept that, he needed to, he needed to understand, like Dean had tried to understand him. Yes, that would be the adult thing to do, and Castiel was an adult. This was good, this would be good.

His phone rang suddenly, Castiel jumping up where he was sitting. He looked at the phone with wide eyes, Dean’s name across the screen.

He swallowed roughly and took the phone.

“Dean!” he exclaimed, voice gruff, but faltering. “What’s wrong?”

There was hesitation on the other line.

“Ehm, nothing? I was just calling about our plans tomorrow, and… are you showering?”

Castiel looked up at the shower, water still pouring from the showerhead, probably long cold by now. Castiel stood up, turning it off abruptly.

“Eh, no. Just… doing some washing. Of things,” he said, rolling his eyes at his own words. Dean laughed on the line.

“You have no idea how dirty that sounded, Cas,” the other man said amused. Castiel huffed. He found himself smiling though, glad to hear the older Winchester’s voice.

“You said something about tomorrow?” Castiel said, ignoring Dean’s statement. Dean made a humming sound. “Have you planned something?” Castiel asked then, interested.

“Maybe,” Dean said with a secretive tone in his voice. “Nothing special though, I just want to show you something. It’s a little outside of town, but not too far”.

Castiel gave his agreement as they decided on a time for Dean to pick him up, Castiel ready to hang up when Dean said:

“Oh, and Cas? Dress nice”.

\---

Castiel didn’t appreciate dress codes. If he were to dress after some stated rule, that rule had be to distinct and clear, making Castiel one hundred percent sure if “nice” was full tux or simply jeans without holes in them. Not that he had any jeans with holes, not seeing the attraction and finding it unnecessarily cold on his knees. However, he thought Dean might have some. So Dean saying ‘dress nice’ wasn’t really helpful. Anna and Ezekiel’s wedding invitation that said ‘formal wear’, that was better.

He eventually decided on black slacks, dark shoes and a white button down. The white shirt was tight fitting around the chest, arms and lower waist. Not to the point of discomfort, but it definitely showed of Castiel’s slim figure more than he was used to. It wasn’t all too long in the sleeves, like Castiel preferred, but it was long enough. Brushing his teeth and dragging a hand through his mess of a hair, he went downstairs to meet the younger man.

Dean was leaning against the impala, whistling a tune and looking straight at Cas when he came out from the building complex. He broke into a grin.

“Now, look at you, Angel! Now you’re just missing your wings, maybe I should have brought them?” Dean said, crossing his arms and making an amused clicking noise with his tongue. Castiel smiled at the other man, taking a twirl on the spot for good measures.

“I only use them for special occasions,” Castiel said with a glint in his eyes, making the other man laugh.

“So this isn’t a special occasion to you, then?” Dean said, throwing his hands with a dramatically horrified expression. Castiel hummed.

“That is yet to see,” he said, voice low. He laid a careful hand on Dean’s arm, smiling gently before entering the open passenger door, Dean doing the same on the other side.

They drove for a while, maybe half an hour. Castiel did not keep track. Dean was continuing their music lessons while driving, making Castiel change the song midway more than once when Dean suddenly had a new song come to mind that Castiel just had to hear. Castiel felt his head swimming with band names, songs and live concerts Dean would have done anything to see, but never had.

“Right up here,” Dean eventually said, pointing towards the end of a road filled with stores and small café’s. Castiel had been here before at a Christmas market with Anna. It was a small town within a city, like something taken out of a movie, with all the necessities of a larger place put into a smaller one. It was colorful and warm, quite picturesque really, but also crazy expensive. Dean turned his car into the parking space area, walking out and waiting for Castiel, who looked at all the lights in front of him with awe. It was really beautiful.

“I haven’t been here in seven years,” Castiel told Dean while walking ahead, smiling at the organic chocolate shop to his right, making chocolate figures of practically anything, Castiel even seeing some chocolate glasses and a huge chocolate basketball.

“I haven’t been here in twenty-two,” Dean said then. Castiel looked away from the store and up at his friend, Dean smiling shyly down at Castiel in return. Castiel wanted to ask, but had a feeling Dean was going to tell him in his own time, and they continued to walk on in silence instead, Castiel smiling at everything and occasionally tugging Dean’s arm and pointing to something or disappearing randomly into a store without Dean noticing so Dean had to go and find him.

When they reached a small restaurant, Dean took Castiel by the arm and made him stop. A big red and white sign with the words ‘Waffle house’ stood above the door, the smell in itself enough to bring someone inside, but the place didn’t look nearly as extravagant as some of the other restaurants they had passed, making Castiel look down at his and Dean’s clothing with raised brows.

“This is us, but if you feel like walking more first, we can do that to,” Dean said, smiling at Castiel. “But they won’t close up the other shops neither before 11, so maybe we can do some more walking after dinner?”

Castiel nodded, feeling the need to return to the chocolate store by the entrance, as well as a beautiful shop with hand-made ornaments and jewelry.

Dean led them inside, telling the pretty waitress his name. She gave them both a genuine smile, telling them to follow, and she led them up a couple of stairs and to the back corner of the room and a table where…

“Dean, it’s so beautiful,” Castiel exclaimed, looking at the view from the window by their table, seeing the entire small town out in front of them from above, lights glimmering and people moving, smiling. Enjoying the sensation of mid-November, just before the hysteria of December and Christmas shopping came around, when this place would turn into chaos and stress, like every other place in the city. Dean nodded in agreement.

“I know. I asked for this table specifically, which is why I called in advance,” Dean said, sitting down opposite Castiel. Castiel looked around the room, seeing a few but not many others enjoying a meal or talking over drinks. It was far from full, which made it easier to talk and eat in private, which made Castiel enjoy it even more. The pretty waitress, Hael, from her nametag, came back with menus and some water for them to drink, smiling happily and asking them to just call out for her when she was needed. They thanked her, taking the menus in hand.

“What would you suggest?” Castiel asked, looking up at Dean. Dean huffed in amusement.

“What, do you mean what four year old Dean with a sweet tooth and a constant sugar high would suggest, or what twenty-six year old mechanic Dean with a need to take care of himself would suggest?”

Castiel looked at Dean, head tilted.

“Are they different?” he asked, completely serious, which made Dean chuckle and shrug.

“Not really, I’ll have the waffles with chicken and barbeque sauce. And pie. We need pie,” he said then, grinning at Castiel.

Castiel ordered waffles, like Dean, but with salmon and grated cheese, earning a grimace for Dean. Castiel thought it to be very interesting. The food came quickly and they ate mostly in silence, a few moans slipping through Dean’s mouth which made Castiel’s breath a little rigid. To full for their own good, they still ordered the pie (“Pecan, dude. It has to be pecan”) and two coffees. They were both content, looking out the window while waiting. Castiel eventually broke the silence.

“Did four year old Dean come here with his parents?” Castiel asked, leaning slightly forwards across the table. Dean looked at Castiel with a small smile.

“He did. And Sam. Though Sam was only six months old by then,” Dean said, smiling to himself at the memory. “My dad, John, had recently got a promotion at the firm he was working at then, and they had decided to take a weekend trip to celebrate, so we went here, to California, and stopped at this place. Mom’s idea”. The older Winchester’s eyes turned sadder at the thought of his mother. “She loved the town, you know. You almost reminded me of her earlier, running around like a little kid, wanting to see everything, touch everything. She was even worse than little me,” he said with a grin in Castiel’s direction. “Eventually we all agreed we would blow all our savings if dad didn’t remove mom from the small stores, so we went in here to eat”. He gesticulated to the room around them. “And we sat at this exact table, watching the town, mom helping Sam to eat small, crushed pieces of pecan pie, and dad telling me all about his promotion, though I obviously didn’t understand much of it”. Dean chuckled.

“It was a good day,” Castiel said, as a statement, not a question, seeing the light shining in the other man’s eyes. Dean nodded in agreement, timidly.

“It was the best day,” he said matter-of-factly. His smile faltered, biting his lip and eyes wavering. Castiel couldn’t help himself. He stretched a hand out over the table and laid it over Dean’s, squeezing it gently. He gave the younger man a reassuring smile, Dean smiling softly in return. He cleared his throat. “Uhm, we drove home that same evening. I hated the thought of flying, dad as well, so we drove everywhere. It was a long trip, but worth it. We came home late Sunday, me helping mom put Sam to bed and then mom following me to bed as well”. He swallowed roughly, looking down at the table and their folded hands. “I woke up a few hours later from having trouble breathing, the smoke already having filled my entire room. I was coughing like crazy, but managed to get out of bed and out into the hallway, were my dad was running around with Sam in his hands, looking for mom”. Castiel held Dean’s hand even harder, removing his other hand from under the table and grasping Dean’s hand between both of his. “He laid Sammy in my arms, asking me to run outside with him, and I did. Dad didn’t come out before several minutes later, close to coughing up his own lungs. But no mom”. Dean looked up at Castiel with a sad attempt at a smile. “Turned out she had been locked inside my parents’ bedroom. The lock had been jammed for months, mom begging dad to fix it but dad always postponing it. Then, when the fire started, the lock wouldn’t budge. She died from smoke inhalation”.

He breathed out heavily, as if the weight of the words had been a huge burden on his shoulders.

“Dad never forgave himself. He was so tired from the drive, he forgot he was boiling water on the oven and fell asleep on the couch. Then suddenly it was all in flames,” Dean said, shrugging it off. “That’s why Sam was such a nag the other day about me driving, even more about me staying alone at my place after. But I’m not dad and I’m not dumb,” he said, voice harsh, like he was reassuring himself just as much as Castiel. Castiel nodded.

“I know, Dean,” he said. The waitress came with the pie and the coffee, smiling gently at them when they both jumped in surprise and Castiel extracted both his hands from Dean’s abruptly. He looked from the waitress to Dean and back again, Dean sending him a questioning glance.

“Could we take that to go, please?” Castiel asked the waitress, the girl a little puzzled, but nodding nonetheless.

“Sure, I’ll just get some cups and a bag for you, be right back,” she said, leaving them once more. Dean looked at Castiel with eyebrows raised.

“Where are we going?” he asked, looking at Castiel tugging on the sleeves of his white shirt, Castiel smiling at the younger man.

“I want to show you something as well, we just need to take a quick stop at one of the stores first,” Castiel said, as the waitress returned with bags and cups for their food and coffee. They thanked her, payed and tipped largely, before leaving the restaurant. “Oh, and Dean?”

“Yes, Cas?”

“Why did you want me to dress nice?”

They stopped in the middle of the street, Dean reaching out a hand to Castiel’s chest, holding it there for just a second, before letting it fall down again. He smiled smugly.

“Because you look damn fine in that shirt”.


	8. The Heartbreaker (Nobody's fault but mine)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for self-harm.

Like Castiel had wanted to, they quickly stopped by the small shop with the hand-made ornaments and small woodcarvings. Castiel bought a tiny wooden rabbit, Dean giving him a smirk, but not saying anything. Then they went by the chocolate store, where Dean bought a bag of chocolate covered raisins for Sam and Jess, and Castiel bought the most beautiful pieces of white chocolate covered snow crystals for Anna. He knew she would love them too much to ever dare to eat them, so he bought two for good measure.

When they returned to the car, sitting down in their respective seats, Castiel with the tray of coffee mugs and pie on his lap, Dean turned towards him, much like he had that previous Saturday.

“Where to, feathers?” he asked with a smug smile. Castiel, rolling his eyes, pointed back towards the way they came.

“Not far, I’ll show you”.

Five minutes later at max, Castiel told Dean to turn to the right, driving into a small road that led to a dimly lit cemetery. Dean shot Castiel a glance, but did not open his mouth before they had come to a stop in the road. Dean parked the car, looking over at the older man beside him.

“Are we visiting someone?” Dean asked, and Castiel looked at him with a nod.

“We are,” he said simply, removing his seatbelt and exiting the Impala, Dean quickly following. Castiel stopped for a second to see to that Dean was still right behind him, then continued walking through the rows upon rows of old and newer graves, big and small, well and less well taken care of, before finally coming to a halt at two closely placed graves. One was larger than the other. Castiel sat down on the ground, putting the coffee tray ahead of him and he gave one of the mugs to Dean, who took it gratefully. The younger man sat down beside Castiel. Castiel crossed his legs while using the plastic knife and fork they had been given to cut the large pecan pie into smaller pieces. He gave one to a distant looking Dean, Dean’s gaze on the two graves in front of him, reading the inscription on them. They did not speak, but ate their pie in peace, Castiel humming happily at the taste, Dean smiling to Castiel at the sound. Castiel eventually wiped his mouth with a napkin and stood up to sit on his heels, extracting the wooden rabbit from his pocket and putting it gently at the top of the smaller grave. He cleared his throat with a cough.

“Dean, I want you to meet Michael, my nephew,” Castiel said, looking at Dean with a small smile. “Anna’s son”.

Dean nodded carefully, looking from the grave to Castiel and then back. He nodded to the grave as well, like if giving Michael a small greeting. Castiel understood, talking to graves were not for everyone. It made Castiel feel better though, and he appreciated the attempt from the younger man next to him.

“I haven’t been to see you in a while, Michael, and I’m sorry for that. Times how been hectic, and I truly have not been doing as well as I should. You know I prefer coming here when I’m at my best, so I can tell you about all the good stuff happening, not the bad stuff,” Castiel said, looking at the grave and avoiding Dean’s eyes. “Lately, though, a lot of good stuff have been happening. Your mom, for instance, is doing great. As you know, the dreaded anniversary was last Thursday, and as always, I met your mom at her place, preparing for a night of a little too much partying, if you know what I mean. You know, kind of when you ate all those hot dogs at your fourth birthday and vomited all over your friend Madison? Just like that. But your mom, she is doing so well, she didn’t even think about eating all those hot dogs, she didn’t even eat one! And I am really proud of her. I hope you are as well. She misses you though, so much. I can tell. She cried when we watched that cartoon you like so much, the one we used to watch when you were ill, do you remember? I don’t know its name, but it’s that one with the coyote and the bird, and the coyote always gets and anvil dropped on his head…”

Dean chuckled beside him. “Wile E. Coyote and the Road Runner,” he said, looking at Castiel with a small smile, then back at the grave. “I used to watch that too as a kid, Michael. You have good taste”.

Castiel smiled gratefully at Dean, then returned to look at the wooden figure on top of the grave. “I know you must miss Bubbles very much. I miss him too sometimes, Anna as well. He was a good bunny. I have been thinking about giving Anna one for Christmas, do you think I should? I think she would have liked that. I want to call him Elvis, but I guess that is up to your mom to decide. Hannah is doing well. She misses you too. She sometimes talks about that time when you were five, and your mom was having her appendix taken out. She and your dad were at the hospital, so Hannah and I took you to the park and played Frisbee, and then we ate way too much ice cream and all went to visit your mom with stomach aches, do you remember?” He chuckled a bit at the memory. “Your dad was so mad at me then, but I don’t think your mom really cared all that much. Your dad was the one to tuck your whining but to bed that night anyway”.

Castiel looked over to Ezekiel’s grave with a small sigh and watched the engraved letters beneath his name. ‘No one is actually dead until the ripples they caused in the world dies away’. Anna chose those words, Castiel believing them to be truer than most words occupying the cemetery’s different colored stones. Both the good and the bad, having effects on the people you left behind in the aftermath.

“I hope your dad is doing well. I wish I felt I could talk to him, especially since your mom cannot. Maybe someday I will, when I’m braver”.

Castiel looked at Dean, Dean looking back at him with a timid smile.

“Dean is my friend,” Castiel said to Michael then, still looking at Dean. “He has been really good to me, making me feel like part of this awesome group he hangs out with. They are all really sweet, and a bit dorky, just like you. I am sure you would have loved them, and they you. He and his younger brother, Sam, short for Samuel, has been helping me through some of my issues. I’m even getting used to using nicknames for people again, just like the one I had for you, Mikey, though I still dislike them when there are too many at once”. Castiel grimaced at Dean, the other man grinning with amusement. “Dean is easy, his name is too short to shorten further. He calls me ‘Cas’, which I still find really weird, but it’s starting to grow on me”.

“And Feathers,” Dean said to Castiel, turning to Michael’s grave. “’Cause your uncle is the coolest angel I’ve met”. He winked at Castiel, Castiel rolling his eyes.

“Anyway,” Castiel began. “I hope I can bring your mom with me soon. She isn’t ready yet, and I hope you can understand that, though I know it must be hard for you. She missed you so much. And a few days from now, you would have been fifteen! Isn’t that crazy? You would have been the worst as a teenager, probably dating all the pretty girls and boys, a lot like your father and nothing like me, making your mom’s life a living hell”. Castiel chuckled, Dean edging closer to him and nudging him in the shoulder with his own.

“I’ll come by next week with some fresh flowers for your birthday, and then I’ll read you some of your mom’s poems, like last year. The pretty once, those about the small boy playing with his kite by the ocean”. Castiel laid a hand on Michael’s grave closing his eyes and breathing deeply for a moment. “Say hello to your dad for me. Tell him I miss him, and that I’m sorry”.

He let go of the grave, giving them both a last glance before standing up, Dean doing the same. He drew a flat hand against his eyes, rubbing away the small drops of salty water that was forming on the edges, and smiled at Dean.

“Let’s go back to the car”.

\---

They returned the Impala, walking in silence, and Dean sat down on the hood of the car, looking at Castiel. Castiel stood in front of him, eyes still looking back towards the graveyard and the two people lying there, eight years gone.

“Do you feel like telling me about it?” Dean said, voice low and soothing, and oh how Castiel wanted to tell Dean. How badly he needed to tell someone, anyone, how he truly felt. That one simple annoying thought in his head that never wanted to leave, no matter how many times he told himself it wasn’t true, no matter how many times Anna or Gabriel told him it wasn’t true. It still felt true. And it hurt.

“I killed them,” Castiel said, looking down, and he did not feel like crying, not the slightest, but he felt the tears pressing on anyway. “We were driving, Ezekiel behind the wheel, and it was late, and I shouldn’t have talked to Ezekiel then, I really shouldn’t have. But I did anyway, ‘cause I was so sick and tired of hiding myself and who I was – who I am - and he got so mad. So mad. And Michael was screaming, and Anna was yelling, and then Ezekiel turned his eyes away from the road, just for a second, so he could look at me to tell me what an _abomination_ I was, to him, to everyone, how he didn’t want me to be in his life anymore, in Michael’s life anymore”. Castiel was shaking now, holding back tears and shivering in his thin shirt at the same time. “And then I wasn’t. Then they were gone. And I will never, ever, forget the blank look on my nephews face as he lied face up, scull broken and lungs punctured on the pavement. I will never forget Ezekiel’s mutilated body lying in front of the hood of the car, soaked in his own blood because he was such a god damn fool that didn’t even bother using a seat belt, ‘cause his faith was in God’s fucking hands anyway”.

He was shaking so hard now. Dean rose to comfort him, laying both his hands on Castiel’s shoulders and opening his mouth to say something, but Castiel just shook him off.

“And all because of me! Because I’m interested in another gender than what he considered right, because I had a boyfriend and enjoyed being fucked in the ass, my sister’s husband and son died. They died, Dean! That is not okay, you can’t make that okay!” He gasped for air, but no oxygen seemed to be filling his lungs. “They are gone! Because of me!”

He shouted at Dean, tears so close to spilling now. His knees were weak, and he wanted to fall to the ground and stay there, like them, to just stay there and be there and not be able to get up again, because he was so damn tired of this guilt and hurt following him around.

“It’s not true, Cas, you can’t believe that,” Dean said defeated, moving closer to him, but not attempting to touch him again.

“It is! It always is, no matter what Anna tells me, or Gabriel, or anyone, if I had just waited one more day, if I had waited one more week, or just never even told him. If I just never even felt that way, they would be okay!” Castiel cried out, Dean shaking his head fiercely.

“You can’t change the way you feel, Cas, you just can’t,” Dean tried to say, fists clenching at the need to comfort the wrecked man in front of him.

“I should be able to, I wish I was able to, and then I could take it back, then I could take it all back…”

Then Dean was on him, clasping his hands over Castiel’s jaw, shaking him lightly to get his attention, and Castiel froze at that.

“No! I am not letting you do this to yourself, that was not your fault, that wasn’t anyone’s fault, but especially not yours! You’re allowed to feel whatever you feel, to love anyone you love, you should never be sorry for who you are, Castiel, do you hear me? Never! And if he didn’t accept you, then that is on him, not you, you are not to blame for this. You are not to blame, and you are not alone, and you have your family, and they love you, Cas. They _love_ you, they would never love you if they truly thought this to be your fault. And you have Sam, and Charlie, Jo, Jess. You have me, Cas”.

Dean was looking at him with so much intensity and honesty, willing Castiel to understand, willing him to see what Dean saw, and Castiel was breathing so rapidly, trying to find air.

“You have me, Cas. I’m not going anywhere”.

And Castiel kissed him.

He did not even see himself moving his hands from their frozen position beside his own legs and back to Dean’s neck. But there they were, grasping the other man like he was his last lifeline, pressing his own lips so hard against Dean’s, breathing him in, feeling the wet and the warmth of his full lips against Castiel’s to dry and slightly chapped. And he could breathe, he finally felt like he could breathe.

And then Dean was pushing him away, gasping for air.

Castiel opened his eyes, releasing the grasp on the other man, hands falling to his side and taking a step backwards. And Dean looked so pale, so hurt, expression pained and worried and slightly flushed at the same time. But there was nothing good there, and Castiel knew it. There was not pleasure or contentment, not even a hint of it. There was only that agonizingly painful expression of someone who just made a mistake they wished they could take back. And that. That hurt more than anything.

“Cas, I’m so sorry, I…” Dean began, but Castiel took another step backwards. He wanted to vomit, like Michael had on his fourth birthday, or when they ate too much ice cream with Hannah, or like Anna had done every November 5 but the last, and how Castiel had every intention of doing when he came home to the safety of his own apartment.

“Please don’t,” he said instead, keeping the pie intact. “I’m going to walk back towards the town and take the bus home”. He could hear the ice in his own voice, and he was so thankful for it. It was able to shadow the pool of emotions overflowing in his throat, the ones he was not, under any circumstances, letting come to life. Not here, not with Dean. Not with the person who currently was the reason behind most of those emotions.

“Cas, I’m not letting you walk back, it’s half an hour, at least. And the bus ride is another hour in itself,” Dean said, voice hoarse. “Please, let me at least drive you back to the town and wait with you. The busses only leave every hour, if you walk, you’ll miss one and have to wait an hour in the freezing cold. God dammit, Cas, you don’t even have a bloody jacket!”

He was pleading and he knew it, and Castiel knew it, but fuck him if he cared.

“I’m walking now, Dean,” Castiel said, moving away from the man and up the road. Dean ran after him, laying a hand on his shoulder.

“Cas, please!”

Castiel spun around, shoving a childish finger directly into the other man’s chest, and he practically groaned with built up frustration quickly turning into anger.

“Don’t. Touch. Me,” he spit out, a single tear falling from his left eye, resisting staying back like the rest of the water pool. And then he walked. And Dean didn’t follow him again. And if there was a tiny little part of him that desperately wished he had, then that part was wrong. And if the flood behind his eyes broke apart a minute later, then no one other than Castiel was there to see it.

It took two hours to get home.

Half an hour of walking, half an hour of waiting, one hour on the bus. It was 1AM and he was exhausted to the inner of his bones when he finally locked himself into his apartment.

He hated himself for what he did then.

And then he called Anna.

“Castiel? It’s late, are you all right?” she said over the phone, sounding groggy and lost, as if she just woke up, which considering the late hour, she probably did.

“Need you,” he said simply, and he was so, so tired, even those two words felt like a marathon. He felt himself dozing off for a second, and then there were noises of things moving and doors opening on the other end.

“Do not fall asleep, do you hear me? Now, I want you to tell me everything you know about the angels, Michael and Gabriel, and I’ll be there in less than twenty minutes,” Anna said, voice full of worry and angst. Castiel failed to answer right away, which made her practically scream into his ear: “Now, Cas!”

It took every ounce of energy he had left, but he nodded to himself, having to think way harder than usual to remember, not even noticing his sister’s use of the shortened version of his name.

“Michael and Gabriel are both recognized as archangels by most Christians, in Judaism and Islam, though Protestants think Michael to be the only archangel…”

Anna came, like promised, fifteen minutes later, still on the phone with Castiel when she almost ran the bathroom door down. Castiel was sitting on the floor, shower on, with the phone clutched in his hand, talking about how Michael defeated Satan during the war of heaven. Anna put her phone away, dropped down on the floor beneath her baby brother and pulled him into her chest in a soul-crushing hug.

She pulled away, holding his head in her hands and shook her head with so much sadness that Castiel felt like crying all over again. Then he pulled the two bags of white chocolate covered snow crystals from his bumblebee bag beside him and smiled at Anna. A weak smile, but still a smile.

“I bought you snow,” he said then, Anna taking the bags and chuckling at the sight, the noise coming out as half-hysterical in her throat.

“I love them,” she said, pulling him back for another hug. He enjoyed the warmth of her embrace, desperately ignoring the wish in the back of his mind that it belonged to someone else.

“Michael says hi,” he said into her chest, and she kissed the hair on his head, clutching him tighter. “He misses you”.

She nodded. “I miss him too”. Her voice was low and broken. “I think I want to come with you, for his birthday. Is that okay?”

Castiel nodded.

“We’ll bring him a present”.

They eventually fell asleep on each other’s shoulder while eating the chocolate, water still running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm a sucker for angst and pining, sorry!


	9. The Reconciler (What is and what should never be)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for talk of self-harm and some homophobia.

Castiel didn’t leave the house until next Thursday. Anna stayed with him, only went a short trip out Saturday to buy groceries for the upcoming week and to get the necessities from her own apartment. Anna, writing whenever it suited her best, didn’t need to call in sick for work, but Castiel did. But for a few exceptions, like funerals and work trips, Castiel had never been away from the university more than two days in a row, not even as a student. It felt weird, like he was constantly forgetting something, but at the same time it felt good. Like a small, unplanned holiday. Cain, though sounding a little confused by Castiel’s sudden need to take an entire week of, didn’t mind, just asked him to enjoy himself and that they would see each other for the staff meeting next week. Castiel was thankful.

He texted Hannah, not saying much other than saying he needed to spend some time with Anna at home. Hannah, who knew Michael’s birthday was coming up, figured it must have something to do with that. She simply told him to take care of himself, which really was why he was calling in sick in the first place, Anna insisting that he’d do just that. He did not need to text Sam, the younger Winchester having tried to call him three times during the weekend, Castiel eventually caving and sending him a text late Sunday, saying that he was sick and did not feel like talking. He hoped it did not sound too abrupt, not wanting the other man to feel dismissed, but Sam seemed to understand. Castiel tried to think of Dean as little as humanly possible, but he wondered if Dean had talked to Sam, told him what Castiel had done, told him what Castiel had said.

Sam texted him every single day, just little things. Talking about school or Jess, or Charlie and Jo’s need to reduce the PDA (an abbreviation Castiel embarrassingly enough had to google, literature student and all). Jessica and Sam even sent him a few video messages on Facebook of the two of them wishing him to feel better soon. Castiel smiled at those, grateful for the couple and their interest in his wellbeing. He made sure he answered every message, even sent one hilariously awkward message of him and Anna trying to say hello without falling into a laughing spree. He was starting to feel better when Thursday came around, Anna and himself planning to head out to the cemetery around noon. Castiel, finding his tradition of always eating something while talking to his deceased family a reassuring one, made simple sandwiches for the two of them, as well as a full thermos of coffee. They drove in Anna’s red hybrid, her hair looking even redder against the red vehicle, heading the same way Dean and Castiel had the previous Friday. Castiel tried not to think about that, nor the fact that they parked in the same space or sat down next to the graves the way they had. He focused instead on his sister, tears already flowing down her cheeks at the site of her two most beloved, long gone in the ground. She touched the gravestone of her late husband, closing her eyes and saying words Castiel thought to be long left unspoken, but too low for Castiel to hear. She sat back on her heels after that, taking Castiel’s hand and squeezing it. They ate first, sipping their still too hot coffee in silence. Then Castiel began talking to Michael.

“Look who I brought today, Mikey? Isn’t she a sight for sore eyes?”

Anna, though crying even harder now, quickly caught up on how to talk to a gravestone without feeling like a complete idiot. They laughed, and they cried, and they talked about the good memories, the Christmases they had spent together, the presents Michael had received and all the ones Anna wished she still could have been able to get him. They had brought a beautiful bouquet of blue flowers, blue being Michael’s favorite color as a seven year old, and laid it down in front of his grave. Castiel showed Anna the little wooden rabbit and they both laughed at the memory of Bubbles the bunny. Castiel bravely told Anna he still was not able to speak to Ezekiel the way he wanted to, but hoped he would be able to someday soon, maybe sooner now that Anna would be able to come with him. Anna asked if she could stay alone for a little while to talk to Ezekiel, so Castiel brought his coffee mug and went for a stroll around the graveyard.

He almost walked right past them. About ten rows of graves up north from were Anna was currently sitting, was two gravestones reading ‘Samuel Campbell’ and ‘Deanna Campbell’. Castiel got down on his knees. He remembered Dean telling him Mary’s maiden name was Campbell. Though he never told him his grandparents’ names, it was not too hard to see who was lying there before him. Their graves looked recently attended to, a small bouquet of white lilies on each of their graves. They still looked fresh. Castiel wondered if Dean came here alone, or maybe Sam did, or if they both went together, if at all. It could be another family member Castiel did not know about, or old friends. He thought of how hard it had to be for them, having their mother and father, especially mother, lying six feet under in a different state, not being able to visit on birthdays and holidays. Dean didn’t seem accustomed to talking to the dead like Castiel was, but he knew there was comfort in just sitting by their side as well.

He got up after a while, closing his hands in the pocket of his beige trench coat. It was getting colder, December ahead. He looked down at the two graves before him.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Campbell,” he said, after a while. “You don’t know me. My name is Castiel Novak. I am a friend of your two grandsons, Sam and Dean, whom I see have been given your names. I just… I just wanted to tell you that they are really good men. Both of them. They may have done some bad things in their lives, taken some wrong turns, but they stick by each other no matter what. I admire that in them. You should be proud”.

He meant every word. Even though he wanted to hate Dean for not feeling the same way he did, he knew it was a childish sentiment. Dean had been kind, welcoming, aiding Castiel in a way no one else had before him. Just by telling him who he is, past and all, is good enough. He still wished Dean had been true to his word, though, and tried to contact him in his hour of need. But Castiel should have known by now that people often make promises they can’t keep. He nodded to himself, not really knowing what more to say, so he simply laid his hand on each of their graves in turn, his way of saying goodbye, before heading back towards Anna.

Anna rose as she saw him. Her face was stricken with tears, but she was smiling warmly at him and pulled him in for a hug when he came close enough.

“Thank you, Castiel. For bringing me,” she said, folding her hand in his own. Castiel shrugged.

“You brought yourself, Anna. It was your idea after all”. Anna shook her head at that.

“If I hadn’t come to you, I never would have come here. I wanted to be with you, and therefore I wanted to be with them. Thank you for calling me. Thank you for asking for help”. She looked at him with an earnest smile, Castiel smiling gently in return.

“Thank you for coming,” he said, pulling her in for a one armed hug. They looked one last time at the graves, Castiel opening his mouth to say goodbye to Michael when Anna pointed to Ezekiel’s grave.

“Oh, I almost forgot. I saw the bunny, on Zeke’s grave. It had been knocked down to the ground by the wind or something, but I put it back up again,” she said, pointing to her husband’s gravestone. “That was nice of you, to buy one for him as well. Now Bubbles don’t need to be alone!” Anna laughed happily. “What should we name him?”

And Castiel looked to Ezekiel’s grave, slightly larger than Michael’s, but on top of it was a wooden rabbit, identical to the one on the smaller grave. Castiel swallowed, hard. At least know he knew who had brought the flowers on the Campbells’ graves.

“Let’s call him Elvis,” he said, squeezing his sister’s shoulder tighter beneath his arm.

When they left, Castiel said goodbye to Michael, and then – to Ezekiel as well.

\----

Castiel went back to work that following Monday. He had a long video call with Sam, and partially Jess, on Saturday. They did not mention Dean a single time, which made Castiel even more positive about how Dean must have talked to them. Whatever he had said, they did not seem to think of him differently, which Castiel appreciated. Sam had told him about a pre-Christmas party he was hosting to celebrate the beginning of December, though technically the last weekend of November. It would be happening Saturday the week after, and they really wanted Castiel to be there. Castiel hesitated, saying he still wasn’t feeling all that great, and maybe it would be a little too much with so many new people at once, but Sam shook his head and told him it only would be a small get together.

“Yeah,” Jessica confirmed. “We’re only inviting our closest friends”. Castiel had felt honored at that, but still felt the need to point out that he barely had known most of them for then a month. Jessica sparred with how Sam had talked about him so much since the beginning of August that they all felt like they had known him for a lifetime. Castiel had laughed openly at the tickle show that followed. He still told them he had to think about it, and they seemed okay with that.

“I’ll see you Tuesday, Sam?” Castiel asked, leaning his head back against the couch where he was sitting, cartoons on mute on the television before him. He was reading a book himself, currently laying open in his lap, while Anna had paused her cartoon marathon to go make pancakes in the kitchen, one of the few things they both successfully could make.

“Actually no,” Sam said, looking hurriedly at his girlfriend and back at Castiel. She gave him a stern look, easily seen, though Castiel tried to ignore it. “Uhm, I’m going on a trip. To Kansas”.

Castiel tried to keep his expression as neutral as his voice when he asked: “Is Dean going as well?”

Sam coughed, Jessica rolling her eyes and moving away from the camera. Sam looked at her with desperation, a look clearly pleading to not be left alone in such an awkward hour.

“It’s okay, Sam. You can talk about him,” Castiel eventually said, wishing he didn’t need to, but seeing the need to be an adult about it as well. Sam let out a breath.

“I’m sorry, man,” Sam said, and sorry he was, the emotion so evident in his voice it almost made Castiel loose his two days running of dry eyes. He shook his head at the younger Winchester.

“Please don’t be. I hope you will have a nice trip. When will you be back?”

Sam huffed, but did not push. “Thursday”.

“How about a meeting Friday, then? And I will give you my final answer on this get-together of yours, if that’s all right by you”. Castiel tried to smile reassuringly at the other man, feeling himself failing but not wanting to stop trying for it.

“That’s great. And, ehm, if it helps? Dean won’t be there. Saturday. Since we’re leaving for Kansas, he has to work double shifts on the job and he promised Benny he’d take his shift Friday and Saturday night, his wife is delivering soon and Dean wanted to be the good guy and help out. He’s way into overdrive, I’m afraid he’ll crash soon, and… oh, man, I’m sorry, you don’t want to hear about this”.

Which was true, but mostly because of the worried feeling he got inside his gut at the thought of Dean’s tired eyes and dark circles, working himself too hard for his own good.

“Once again, it’s okay, Sam,” Castiel said. “Even though… things happened. I still care”. And he knew that to be true. Sam nodded at that.

“Yeah, I know. That’s ‘cause you’re a good guy, Castiel,” Sam said, and the men smiled at each other in silence. “And, uhm… Dean, he might come around, you know…” Castiel interrupted him.

“Let’s not, Sam. Friday, same time?”

Sam nodded defeated and glanced to his side with his stupid puppy-dog eyes. Castiel knew very well it was Dean’s room he was watching. He wondered if the older Winchester was inside, sleeping before his every other Saturday shift at the bar.

“Same time. I’ll bring lunch”.

Castiel worked harder than usual that entire week, coming in early and going home late. He ran every morning, ate healthy and the days went with much needed ease. Hannah was surprised to see him working so hard, asking him to take a break on several occasions, but Castiel just shrugged it off and told her he was in a good drive, and continued on. He avoided Lucy’s that week, knowing to well that Lucifer would ask one too many questions about his clearly different state of mind. Lucifer knew him better than most, Castiel once again feeling like he was a mind reader of some sort.

They had a staff meeting Wednesday, Cain being his own happy, superior self. They were going through some evaluations the students had done on their professors and classes, Cain finding it an excellent idea to read most of them aloud so that those with less than perfect grades could feel the extra need to be better next time due to embarrassment. There was luckily mostly good or neutral things to be heard, a few real mean ones, but everyone had a couple of those. Cain was especially impressed by Castiel, having the highest ratings on his ‘teaching skills’, like Cain called it, of all. His Modern Literature class was apparently very fond of him, Cain pointing out a few comments about Castiel being a young and modern professor, willing to state his own mind and not follow others. One person had even called him ‘brave’. It honestly made Castiel’s day, though it also made him feel the need to live up to those sayings more often.

Cain stopped him on his wait out the door with the others.

“Everything all right, Novak?” he asked, smiling knowingly at the younger man in front of him. Castiel nodded. He felt like that question included both Castiel himself, his week off, Sam and every other aspect of his life that Cain could not possibly know about. However, you never know. That man had contacts in the strangest of places.

“Yes, I’m all right, Cain. Thank you,” Castiel said, and followed Hannah up and back to their office. Thursday, Castiel stayed late, even later than usual, Hannah long gone, trying to finish some writing. His concentration was slowly ebbing out of him though, making it harder and harder to find the words he wanted to see on the computer in front of him. He caved around 8PM, looking around at the incredibly messy office. So he started cleaning. It took hours, finding a system for all their books, notes and documents, then dusting of everything, cleaning the tables, and even – to his own amazement – washing the windows. When he was done, it was almost 11PM and he was so tired he almost felt like falling asleep in his chair and just sleep in his office, but the scrutinizing look Hannah would give him did not seem to be worth it. So he decided to take the bus home instead, walking out and into the schoolyard, towards the bus stop. It was almost fifteen minutes until the next one, so he sat down to wait.

There was nothing that seemed better than to simply sink into the ground and die there, when Dean suddenly came walking towards him from the road, walking towards the university café’s and the Roadhouse, which Castiel still hadn’t been to, but assumed Dean was heading towards now. The older Winchester slowed his pace, squinting, and stopped for a second when he realized who he was looking at. But then he continued forward, stopping a few feet away from Castiel.

“Cas,” he said simply, falling silent for a while. Castiel didn’t really feel like breaking the silence. “I didn’t see you there,” Dean finished eventually, reaching his hand back to scratch his neck absently.

“You should get contacts then,” Castiel said, voice careless and cold. He had to look away from Dean, looking down at his own shoes instead as if they had something extremely interesting on them. He didn’t want to be an arrogant brat that felt sorry for himself for not getting what he wanted. He should just apologize. Behave like a grownup. Dean let out a short, abrupt laugh.

“Maybe you just have superhuman angel-sight or something,” Dean said, going for a joke, grinning lightly though it quickly faltered. Castiel looked at him then, squinting his eyes.

“What’s an angel without its wings?” he said, staring the other man right in the eyes, and he sort of wished he hadn’t, because the green in them were glittering under the street lamp, and he looked so fucking perfect. Dean fucking perfect Winchester.

Dean almost looked hurt, opening his mouth to say something, but instead he turned around at the sound of someone running towards him. Castiel looked away as well, seeing the figure of a young boy. He felt his heart leap for just a second, thinking of Michael, but quickly observed that this was the young boy from the lake, the one with the brunette from the party. The boy came to a halt next to Dean, looking at Castiel.

“Hello,” the boy said simply, looking up at Dean for reassurance. Dean nodded to him and looked at Castiel, now eyes clearly defeated.

“Ben, this is Castiel… my friend. Cas, this is Ben, Lisa’s son. From the Halloween party, I don’t know if you met her,” Dean said, Ben tilting his head at Castiel in a way Michael always used to do, and a way Castiel according to others often did himself.

“I didn’t,” Castiel said simply, looking at Ben and not Dean, avoiding the older Winchester’s gaze.

“Castiel? That’s odd,” Ben said with amusement, earning an easy blow to the head by Dean. “What?”

“Be nice!” Dean exclaimed, Ben huffing. Castiel shook his head.

“That’s allright, Ben. I hear that a lot,” he said, smiling small at the young boy in front of him. Ben nodded satisfied and tugged at Dean’s shoulder.

“We have to get home before mom starts to worry, Dean, we’re already late,” he said, then smiling once more at Castiel, who was stiff in his seat. Eyes slowly moving up towards Dean once more. Dean as well seemed to understand the statement behind the young boy’s words.

“Cas, it’s not…”

“My ride is here”.

Castiel stood up and waved to the bus driving into the street in front of him. Castiel looked down at Ben. “It was nice to meet you, Ben. I hope you and Dean have a great time at your moms’”.

And he went into the bus without another word, not looking back and not checking the window to see if they were still standing there.

\----

Sam came with lunch the day after, like Hannah completely shocked at the room that now actually looked like a room with floors and walls, not everything being covered with stuff. He talked about his trip to Kansas, managing to avoid talking about Dean the whole time, and how he (they) had went to their parents graves and visited the old family home. There had been a nice single mom living there with two small kids now, which Sam thought was nice, though he didn’t personally ever remember living there (Dean did, though he didn’t say, which probably found it even nicer, though he didn’t say). He also talked about the upcoming party (“Get-together, Castiel”) the next day, and he looked expectantly at Castiel, who eventually sighed and caved in.

“I’ll be there,” he said simply, Sam grinning at him. Sam had once again gone by Lucifer to pick up lunch, Lucifer as always knowing when something’s up, and he had gotten two humongous chocolate milkshakes and the best blueberry muffins Castiel had ever dug his teeth into. Free of charge, of course. He felt bad about not walking by to say hi, and decided he would do just that first thing Monday. He just had to get through Saturday and being at Dean and Sam’s place first.

“Can I have five minutes of free speech?” Sam suddenly said, holding his hands up in the air as if he was calling a truce. Castiel squinted at him.

“Meaning five minutes of… Dean speech,” he said, the other man immediately dropping his hands and looking down. Castiel sighed. “It’s okay, Sam. Go ahead”.

Sam took a deep breath and opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it once more. And then he closed it.

“Have you recently turned into a fish without telling me, Sam?” Castiel said flatly, Sam shooting him a bitch face Castiel truly thought was reserved for his brother. Then it returned to his slightly pained expression.

“Dean told me about your meeting last night,” Sam blurted out, looking at Castiel with wide eyes.

“I’m glad you two are speaking more frequently now,” Castiel said simply, making Sam nod erratically.

“We are! And that’s because of you, man! You helped him to be this way, he is talking more now than he has in forever, and it’s because of you! You’re the reason we went to Kansas! Dean haven’t felt like going because he got sad at the thought of seeing mom, and I sure as hell did not want to see dad. And now, now Dean practically begged me to go, saying it would be good for the both of us, and it was! I haven’t felt so connected to my big brother in years. That is because of you! Don’t you get that?” Sam said, catching his breath as all the words he wanted to say came tumbling out at once. Castiel raised his eyebrows.

“No, Sam. I’m not sure I do. And I’m not sure it’s even relevant. Dean made it clear to me he did not think about… things, the same way I do. Did. And that’s all right, no one can force that upon another person, but I still don’t feel like talking about it more than necessary, nor meeting him again any time soon. Is the five minutes of Dean-speech coming to an end now?”

Sam looked at him in defeat. “But, Cas…” he began.

“Castiel,” Castiel corrected automatically, Sam suddenly throwing both his palms on to the table with a far higher sound than he intended to, the large man not having full control of his own strength.

“No, Cas! Cas, your name is Cas, ‘cause people that care about each other use bloody nicknames from time to time, all right? You’re Cas! And I care! And whatever you want to believe, Dean cares too, a lot, though he might suck at showing it”.

Castiel looked at the younger Winchester with wide eyes, Sam looking equally shocked himself and pulled his hands back into his lap, looking slightly out of place.

“I’m not used to yelling,” Sam said, voice low. Castiel chuckled.

“I can tell,” he said, smiling at the larger man who smiled in return. “I care about you too, Sam, and Jessica as well. It is important to me that you know this. I am looking forward to spending time with you both tomorrow, as well as the others, but I do prefer if you let this between me and Dean be just that, between us. I know you love your brother very much, and I am glad you have each other, not seeing myself get through this last two weeks without the aid of my own sibling. But somethings aren’t yours to fix, this being one of them”.

And Sam accepted that with a nod and a smile, not mentioning Dean again, talking about other and easier stuff until Sam had to leave to go shopping for dinner with Jessica, and Castiel himself had a modern literature class to attend to. Sam gave him a huge bear hug before he left, Castiel well aware of all the things that hug was trying to say.

\---

Saturday came fast enough, as days he dreaded always did. He went for simple black slacks, black shoes and a blue shirt this time, dark blue or marine blue or whatever you were supposed to call it. When Sam had told him to dress nice, Castiel had texted him back ‘I need specifics’, which Sam had simply returned with an image of his own slacks, shoes, button down and tie. Castiel had sent a winky face in return. He went with a dark blue tie, slightly bluer than the shirt. Looking at himself in the mirror, he found himself to look… presentable. If nothing more. It wasn’t like he actually was trying to dress up for anyone. Sam had promised Dean would not be there. Dean was working like always, and since Dean knew Castiel would be at the ‘get-together’, he would probably go back to Lisa and Ben’s place and sleep there. Or something. Castiel tried not to think about it much, which of course meant that he did. Excessively much. 

He took the bus to their place, like always, and ran into Charlie and Jo on their way up the stairs to the apartment complex. They grinned wildly and hugged him, both complimenting him on his appearance (“Dude! There isn’t a girl or a boy in this entire state that wouldn’t fall for that,” Charlie had said, Jo shooting her a glare that the redhead had smiled brightly at with a: “Well, it’s true”). Standing outside the Winchesters’ door, Jo turned to look at Castiel.

“Is Dean coming?” she asked him with a small, slightly smug smile. Castiel flinched, but of course, Charlie and Jo didn’t know, and thought everything was normal and friendly between them.

“He’s working,” he eventually said, Charlie rolling her eyes at that.

“Does he ever not work?” she asked rhetorically when Sam and Jess opened the door, both looking equally ravishing and matching, Sam in a red shirt and Jess in an even redder dress. They came inside, toasting to the closing end to a semester, to December being around the corner, to life, themselves, to more things than Castiel could remember until all their glasses of champagne were gone in a few seconds of toasting. They all laughed at that. Ash, Sarah and Pamela came soon after, and then they were all. Sam had told him it would be a small thing after all, and Castiel was glad. The couple had prepared a nice steak, baked potatoes and lots of different vegetables, sauces and dressings.

“This is incredible,” Sarah said, grinning at Castiel who smiled politely in return. And it truly was, the younger Winchester and his girlfriend clearly had worked hard to get it all together in time. Sarah kept asking Castiel questions about his life, research, teaching, which was nice, though Castiel almost found it a little intruding, not feeling like sharing his entire life story during one meal, and also because he wanted to talk to the others as well. He gave Jessica a look in need of some distraction, and she looked from him to Sarah and back again, smiling wildly.

“Castiel, maybe you want to help me in the kitchen? With deserts?” she said, rising from her table. Castiel stood at once.

“Of course,” he said, a little too quickly, and jogged after her, then sighed and fell into a chair in the kitchen. Jessica laughed. The talking as well as the background music from the living room was quite loud, and he figured they could talk freely.

“She won’t stop asking me questions,” Castiel groaned. Jessica leaned against the kitchen counter, smiling.

“Mmm, sorry about that. She used to date Sam,” she said, Castiel looking up with interest. “Yeah, it lasted a couple of months, but he didn’t feel like pursuing it further. And then he met me”. She smiled smugly. Castiel chuckled a bit. “Anyhow, I think she’s trying to prove something by hitting on you instead”.

“Then why invite her?” he asked, leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees. Jessica shrugged.

“To be nice? Because it’s the grown up thing to do? I don’t know. She’s still a good friend of all of the others, it doesn’t feel right leaving her out just because she used to date someone in the gang, you know? Even though it’s Sam”.

Castiel hummed at that. “That’s nice of you,” he said. “Meaning you’d still invite me even though Dean would be here?” Castiel tried to say it as a joke, but he himself could hear it coming out as a serious question. She placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled down at him.

“Cas, of course we would. We care about you. You know that. If you didn’t feel like coming, we would totally understand, but that does not mean we wouldn’t invite you. You’re always welcome here,” she said, patting his shoulder. Then she grimaced. “Christ, I’m talking like I already live here”. They both laughed at that.

“What’s for desert then?” Castiel asked, standing up and throwing his hands out to the sides. Jessica smiled, opening the fridge for Castiel to see. There were four different types of pie occupying the two upper shelves. Castiel’s mouth fell open.

“That’s rather remarkable,” he said, Jessica chuckling.

“Dean went a little crazy,” she said, smiling. Castiel looked at her.

“Dean made all these? To a dinner he isn’t even joining?”

Jessica hesitated. “Well, no. He made all of these yesterday, when he couldn’t sleep before going into the Roadhouse. He has a tendency to do things like that, suddenly start writing music or baking stuff when he got too much to think about and can’t get to sleep. He didn’t feel like eating them, though, so he told me and Sam to dig in. He just left a note, Sam thought we would see him this morning, but he was out at work before dawn. Crazy man”.

Castiel looked at the pies with awe, not even knowing Dean had the skills to make one pie, if not four. He found himself impressed by the man, once again, leaving another ache in his chest.

There were suddenly sounds of shouting and joy from the living room, that equally fast stilled and turned into low murmurs. The two of them shot each other a nervous glance, then stepped outside the kitchen to see Sam having left the table to talk to someone at the door, the rest of the table speaking quietly or not at all, clearly trying to listen in on the conversation. Castiel went towards Sam and the door, not hearing Jessica saying his name in warning.

And there he stood. Dean. Out of his work uniform and in jeans and a black t-shirt, but clearly still arriving straight from the auto shop, grease up his arms and forehead, pearls of sweat still in his hairline. His eyes opened wide at the sight of Castiel, mouth dropping open. Sam looked between the two men, expression nervous.

“Castiel, I’m sorry, I didn’t get to tell…” Sam began, but Castiel put a hand in the air. He should be able to deal with this, he really should, but he was tired, and he didn’t want to.

“That’s okay, Sam. I’ll be leaving now anyway, thank you for the lovely food and your equally lovely company, as always. Do enjoy the rest of your evening,” Castiel said and looked at Dean. Dean was looking back at Castiel with a painful expression, as if he wanted to say something, but lacked the words. Castiel decided to not give him the chance to find them, and layed an open hand on Dean’s upper arm. The man glanced down at Castiel’s hand in surprise.

“It’s good to see you, Dean. Thank you for… Elvis. That was kind of you”. He removed his hand, nodding once towards Sam and then walked past Dean, down the stairs towards the exit door.

He hardly got to stretch his hand out towards the doorknob before Dean was behind him, closing his hand over Castiel’s wrist and pulling his hand away.

“Dean,” Castiel said warningly, but Dean shook his head with so much force Castiel almost thought it would make him dizzy.

“No, Cas, please don’t walk out on me, we need to talk,” Dean said, voice firm and strong, not letting go of Castiel’s wrist. Castiel breathed deeply, looking at the younger man with a tired expression.

“What if I don’t want to talk?” he asked and made an attempt at withdrawing his hand, but Dean, far stronger, not letting him.

“Then you can listen,” Dean said, eyes locked on Castiel’s. They both breathed roughly in silence for a while, tension so dense Castiel almost felt it suffocating him. Dean eventually let go of his wrist, standing upright. “Please,” he said, and oh if his voice didn’t sound wrecked in its pleading. Castiel closed his eyes, breathing out, realizing how stupid he was for doing this.

“Fine,” he eventually said. “But I’m not listening to, or talking about, anything in the hallway of your apartment building, so either we do this another time or we go somewhere else”. And please, could they do it another time, so Castiel could gather his thoughts and find out what the fuck he actually wanted without the distraction of Dean Winchester’s goddamn face.

“I’ll drive,” Dean said, instead, opening the door for Castiel, who gave the younger man a lingering look and a nod, before exiting the building. They sat in the Impala and Dean began driving wordlessly. Castiel had so many things in his head, things he wanted to say, to make Dean understand how he broke him. But he could only smell the for some reason way to intoxicating scent of sweat and grease on the other man, not being able to remove his gaze from Dean’s strong hands turning the wheel, fingers thrumming nervously against the black skin of the interior. Castiel, who did not feel the need to break the silence, didn’t say anything before they were far into the city, quickly heading for…

“Are you driving to my place?” Castiel asked, shocked. Dean just nodded.

“Yup”.

“Why?” Castiel exclaimed, getting a painful look from Dean, who hesitated for a moment before saying:

“Then you can kick me out whenever you want”.

And Castiel really couldn’t argue with that logic.

Standing at the bottom of the staircase leading up to his apartment door with Dean standing right beside him, Castiel was almost able to hear his heart beating more rapidly than it usually did. He felt Dean’s breath against his neck, making him shiver. He once again thought about the fact that no one other than his two siblings ever had sat their foot in his apartment. Wasn’t it fitting that the first one to do so would be the man who he currently thought were about to break his heart. Or brain. Again.

He led them upstairs and turned the key, not bothering about normal politeness and he walked in before Dean, Dean quickly following.

He didn’t exactly feel like showing Dean around, nor getting them anything to drink, so he just stood there, leaning casually against the door. Of course, there was nothing casual to it. It was Castiel’s desperate attempt at making his jelly knees cooperate, and not fall to the ground. Dean was biting his lip in concentration, or pain or some other feeling, Castiel was far too out of it to recognize.

“I’m not with Lisa,” Dean said, letting out a breath. Castiel widened his eyes, a little taken aback by that, but did not otherwise acknowledge hearing the statement. “Ben is her son, not mine, though I thought so myself a while back. His father died, in an accident, and when I reunited with Lisa, I tried to be there for them, but Lisa and I were done. We never worked, not then, not when we tried again, definitely not now. But Ben is awesome, and I want to be somewhat of a father figure for him if I can, if just something to avoid him feeling the void the lack of one, a real one, gives you”.

Castiel swallowed. Damn Dean and his bloody hero complex that made him even more attractive in Castiel’s eyes.

“I was only with Ben that evening because Lisa was sick, and Ben had soccer practice, so I went with him instead”. Dean looked so desperate, as if he needed Castiel to understand this one thing, as if that would change everything.

“That’s nice of you, Dean, I’m sure they both really appreciate that. I do not, however, see how it’s relevant,” he said.

“Because it’s not about that! That kiss on Halloween, Sam told me you saw, wasn’t something I wanted. I pushed her away, Cas. I don’t want _her._ It’s not about me being interested in anyone else, it’s not, I’m not. I’m just… scared, all right?” Dean threw both his hands behind his head, slowly starting to pace back and forth in front of Castiel, who to his own irritation was becoming less irritated the more he stared at the other man’s contorted and desperate face.

“Scared of what?” Castiel said, tilting his head at Dean.

“Of feeling this way!” Dean exclaimed, stopping to look straight at Castiel, which made the man’s knees feel even heavier beneath him. “I’m not you, Cas. I’m not strong enough. My dad gave me shit my entire life, calling me a faggot, a pillow sucker, he beat me to hell for it and still I’m not strong enough to stand up for my own feelings. I should be, I should hate him with all I have, like Sammy keeps telling me to, but I don’t have it in me. I still feel like I should be making him proud, every fucking day. So I just can’t! All right? I know I told you to, to be true to yourself and what you want, I know I’m a god damn hypocrite, but I’m just… scared”. He faltered in the end, looking down at his shoes. “Your nephew and brother in law… they died, and you wrongly think it’s your fault, and you’re still able to be yourself, Cas. I don’t have that strength”.

Castiel was out of breath, trying to form the words in his own mind, but it all came to a halt. It was just chaos, a tumble of nerve endings wanting to piece themselves together but not finding each other, and it was just black. All black. Dean was wrong. He was so wrong.

He pushed himself away from the door and stood right up in Dean’s face, grabbing his jaw hard to make him look at him. Dean did, eyes wide. Then Castiel dropped his hand and pulled his shirt over his head in one quick moment, leaving him bare and cold in the apartment, the air on his forearms making his hairs stand up. He practically pushed his hands into Dean’s chest, shoving him backwards so the other man had to take a step to keep his balance.

“Does this look like strength to you, _Dean_?” Castiel almost shouted, shoving the man once more. Prepared this time, Dean stood his ground. “Does these scars look like someone who has his shit together? No, they don’t, you know why? Because it’s not about strength, I’m no stronger than you are, I’m a 34 year old man with weekly anxiety attacks, who uses razor blades to ease his pain when jerks like you _lies_. You lied, Dean, you said you would always be there, but you didn’t text or call or sent a fucking letter. You told me I could count on you, to call if you I ever felt like doing this again, and trust me, there was nothing I wanted to do more, but you wouldn’t even had come, would you?”

Dean looked down at Castiel’s forearms with his recent red marks, and there was so much pain in his eyes, Castiel could hardly stand it.

“Cas, I…” Dean began, voice so broken.

“Don’t tell me you’re sorry, Dean,” Castiel said, sounding tired and defeated now. He just wanted the other man to leave. “Sorry is just a word, and you have already clearly shown how your words and actions don’t align, and I am not interested in hearing more of them”.

Dean looked up at Castiel, eyes hard with… something. Determination maybe. Or just resolution.

“Now please go,” Castiel asked tiredly, taking a step back from the man, bending down to pick up his abandoned shirt from the floor.

And then suddenly he was pressed up against the door. Dean’s strong hands pushing him off the floor by his hips, his mouth pressing hard against Castiel’s own so Castiel couldn’t move his own mouth or try to push away. Castiel closed his eyes in shock from the blow, feeling the bruise that would form on his back from his meeting with the hardwood door.

Then Dean pulled back, not releasing his hold on Castiel’s hips, but moving his face backwards so he could see the older man’s face. Castiel stared at Dean, green eyes almost black with pining lust, lips red and raw, slightly apart and panting, and god if that didn’t make Castiel’s own cock twitch in his slacks.

He slammed into Dean without thinking about it, too tired to think, just needing to feel. He threw his hands around the other man’s neck, pulling him in, breathing his own breath through Dean’s lips, pushing into the hold the younger man had on his hips. Dean tried to pull away, to take Castiel’s jaw with one hand to see the man’s face, but Castiel simply shoved his hand away with his own, pressing their lips together once more, finding Dean’s tongue and sucking it into his own mouth with a popping sound. He removed one of his hands from Dean’s neck, laying it on his back and pushing him further towards him, making their groins meet and god, Dean was already so hard, erection clearly throbbing threw his tight jeans. The younger man let out an animalistic moan at the sensation, making Castiel’s own cock twitch responsively in return, growing harder by the minute, which pushed Castiel to press even harder against the other man, grabbing his ass for leisure.

“Cas, god, I can’t…” Dean whispered hoarsely with another moan escaping his mouth, Castiel pulling away for just a second, eyes wide with shock.

“Are you kidding me? We’re in the middle of the hottest make out session I’ve had in years after I _told_ you to leave, and now you’re saying you can’t?” he rasped out, mouth open with defiance at the other man. Then Dean gripped both his hips and lifted him off the ground, pushing away his words with another deep kiss, entwining their tongues. Then he fucking carried him towards the couch, leaning over it with Castiel beneath him and finally letting go, making them both fall down onto it, still kissing. Castiel could hardly breathe, but he wanted more, and he pulled at Dean’s hair to get him even closer, to feel his strong arms against his own bare ones. Dean, though, pressed one hard last kiss to his mouth before moving downwards, kissing his neck, his throat, clavicle, nipples, heading down towards his stomach and kissing the thin skin just above the hem of his slacks. Dean looked up at Castiel from his position, eyes so lustful, looking flushed and younger than Castiel had ever seen him.

But he also looked frightened, eyes wide and adoring at the same time. Castiel, though so hard he hardly thought he could think straight, not feeling this way for years, lifted himself up on his elbows and stretched out a hand to Dean’s face, hesitating for a second before caressing it with his hand. The other man closed his eyes, leaning into the touch. He was shaking.

“Dean, it’s okay,” Castiel said, gently pushing Dean off of him and rising to sit next to the man. He didn’t release the grip on his face, just adjusted it further down to his neck, folding his other hand into Dean’s. Dean shook his head.

“God, Cas, it’s not! I want this, I want you, so _bad_ , I just…” Dean got out, stumbling at the words. Castiel leaned towards him, resting their foreheads together and kissing the other man gently. Dean kissed him back, still slightly panting against Castiel’s lips.

“Is this okay?” Castiel asked, stroking his hand over Dean’s hair and giving him another light kiss on the lips. Dean nodded frantically.

“More than okay, Cas, I want… I need more,” Dean breathed, voice wrecked and pupils still dilated, but Castiel hushed him gently, stroking his hair once more.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me, Dean. You just did,” Castiel said. His heart was finally slowing down, the need to touch the other man, to feel his skin against his own, still there but at rest for now, content with being able to touch him like this, gently and patiently. “If you’re comfortable with this, with me, we have time”.

Dean looked at Castiel, squeezing their adjoined hands and pulling him in by the neck for another warm kiss. It was one of promise.

“I am. I know it’s soon, and this is so new to me, but I feel more comfortable around you then I have with anyone for a long time,” Dean said when he let go of the older man’s lips, resting against his forehead. “You make it easier. Talking. Feeling”.

Castiel smiled at the man, feeling relieved, full and empty all at once.

“Then we’ll just feel for a while,” he said then, folding his arm around Dean’s shoulders and pulling him in for another kiss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now, generally happy and domestic Destiel? That's my true aesthetic. Oh, and Lucifer would totally be my best friend in real life. 
> 
> T&S reference number two, now I'm done. Promise!


	10. The Boyfriend (Good times bad times)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for talk of a previous suicide attempt, self-harm and terrible coping mechanisms in general.

Dean and Castiel continued to stay at Castiel’s place quite often, Dean more often than not making dinner, showing Castiel some simpler dishes he could prepare when he was home by himself. They watched movies or television, and sometimes Dean brought his record player and some albums with him, and they moved forward with Castiel’s music lessons. Dean even brought his guitar once, at Castiel’s request, blushing fiercely, needing to restart three times before finally playing a beautiful, somber version of Lynyrd Skynyrd’s ‘Simple man’. Castiel thought the lyrics fitted the man well. Most days, however, they just talked. Dean was usually too tired, coming straight from the auto shop, sometimes even after having attended a shift at the Roadhouse first, to do much else. Castiel asked him once if he really needed to work that hard, if Sam could not take up a small part-time job besides his studies. One night a week at a café would make a difference in itself, but Dean wanted Sam to focus on his studies. Not that Dean cared one bit if Sam became a hotshot lawyer or not. He just wanted his little brother to do what made him happy. And if that meant Dean working a shift or three extra a week, he could manage.

Dean also said that up until now, he really hadn’t needed the time of. For the first time since John had passed, he wanted it.

They continued to take it slow, though Castiel knew Dean wanted more. He wanted that as well, sometimes getting so aroused at the near domestic site of Dean dancing shirtless around his kitchen, making pancakes for dinner and humming to another one of Castiel’s recent additions to his increasingly large album collection. It was slightly embarrassing, feeling his palms go sweaty and his heart race as the younger man grinned happily at him from the kitchen stove, but Castiel didn’t really care all that much. He was happy. And enjoying it.

On the nights they watched television together, spooning or sitting in each other’s lap on the couch, it more often than not led to hot make out sessions. It usually ended in both panting so hard from lack of breath they had to take a turn each in the shower afterwards to cool down, Castiel often jerking himself of quickly to relieve the aching pressure that was building up faster and faster with each time Dean’s body got pressed up against his own. It was getting harder to bare, even for him, who constantly tried to cool Dean down when he got to eager, reminding him that they were taking it slow for his benefit. Castiel knew it was what the other man needed, though he deep down, or really not that deep, wished he would feel safer with Castiel soon. Feel ready. Because Castiel was so ready it was getting rather difficult to pretend that he wasn’t, half way turned on already by the time Dean walked in the door.

He asked Dean if he wanted to sleep over on several occasions, Dean often staying way past midnight, not wanting him to drive of alone by himself. But he understood when Dean declined and left with a good night kiss, always lingering a little longer than necessary, and driving the Impala back to his place. Castiel understood that Dean needed time, that he’d never been with a man the same way Castiel had. Dean had told him that, though Castiel had already guessed it. He wasn’t sure if he was afraid of what Castiel himself would attempt to do if Dean stayed the night, or if it was his own feelings he feared he couldn’t control. Either way, Castiel didn’t push.

Dean had talked to Sam about Castiel, about them, which made Castiel feel all warm when Dean told him. If Dean felt safe enough to talk to Sam about it, that was a sign that this meant something to Dean. If the kissing and the cuddling and the continuing requests to come over didn’t tell him that, Dean telling Sam sure did. That didn’t mean he was ready to be _out_ yet, and Castiel could understand that as well. Even though Jess and Sam both knew, they didn’t talk to them about it, not even when Castiel was alone with Sam. The larger man never brought it up, and Castiel assumed Dean had asked him not to, so respecting Dean’s wishes, Castiel didn’t bring it up himself. They still spent time with the young couple. The brothers and Jess frequently invited Castiel over for movie nights, having finished both the star wars series and the hobbit trilogy by the time Christmas was coming up, sometimes inviting Jo and Charlie over to join them. The two girls, as Dean expected, had decided to move in together for real, practically living together anyway. Castiel was happy for them and told them so, both girls smiling at him. “We’re happy for you to, Cas,” they said knowingly, but no one elaborated further.

One particular Friday evening, when Sam and Dean had invited both Jess and Castiel over for dinner and board games, Jess had just crushed the three men in monopoly when Sam turned to Castiel.

“Cas, what are you doing for the holidays?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and draping an arm around Jessica’s shoulder. She hummed beneath his warm weight. That was another thing. No one called him by his full name anymore, if so, then extremely rarely, but he hardly noticed anymore. Sam was right. It was a means of affection. Even though Castiel had had a hard time adjusting to nicknames after the death of his partial family, it didn’t make the sentiment behind it less true. So Castiel accepted the short version of his name with a new sense of pride and contentment.

“Well, for the last eight years, Christmas for me has been Gabriel, Anna and myself, getting to wasted on eggnog, eating way too much and preordered food, because none of us can cook for the life of us. Gabriel always brings a ton of sweets, eating most of it himself, and then eventually falling to sleep together on the couch watching cartoons. Oh, and enjoying the dreaded morning after together, sometimes all three in Anna’s bathroom at once. It has become a tradition really,” Castiel said, the three others chuckling at the thought of the three of them vomiting in turn. “I might be exaggerating slightly, but more or less, that’s how it goes”.

Jess sat up in her chair, looking quickly at Dean before looking back at Castiel. She hesitated.

“What happened to your parents, Cas?” she asked. The two Winchesters went silent, looking at Castiel as well. Castiel sighed, seeing this conversation coming, the holidays coming up so soon.

“My parents disowned me when I was 19. Anna and Gabriel were both living at home, though Anna was pregnant with Michael at the time. Ezekiel traveled a lot with work, so it was just easier that way,” he began, Jessica gasping in shock.

“They disowned you?”

Castiel nodded. “It wasn’t that big of a deal to me, honestly, though I wish things had turned out differently for all of us. My parents were extremely religious, and I, as you all know by now, am not. I believed as a child, but I had doubts early on. Falling in love with a man and reading at the same time how that made me an abomination destined for hell, well, it kind of made it harder to hold onto my faith. When my parents one very unlucky day came home from work early because Gabriel, always the trickster, had managed to set fire to a teacher’s desk. Which was completely on purpose, by the way. Ehm, they found me in bed with this other man, Inias. Naturally, they did not particularly enjoy the site. And then they threw me out. Anna tried to plead with them, but they wouldn’t budge, and she moved out later that year when the baby came. Gabriel, sixteen at the time, were by far done with our parents anyhow, and truly just stuck around because of me, so he bolted the day after. And well, you’ve seen how he turned out.”

“Oh, we’ve seen!” Jessica exclaimed, grinning. Sam rolled his eyes, looking back at Castiel to make him continue.

“Well, Anna talked with them on and off for the next seven years, Ezekiel being quite religious himself, they liked him and Michael, and they got to know Michael before he and Ezekiel passed. They tried to be there for Anna after, but she wasn’t all that… talkative. Some stuff happened to her, and after that, they just dropped contact all together. None of us have talked to them since. Gabriel and I not in almost 15 years, Anna not for the last eight. I hardly even know if they’re alive, though I’m sure someone would call us if that wasn’t the case”.

The three looked at him in silence. Dean, to Castiel’s amazement, reached out a hand and laid it openly over Castiel’s own on the table, squeezing it. He looked at the younger man with an unsure look, but Dean gave him a reassuring smile, telling him it was okay. Sam and Jessica didn’t even blink at the sight, Castiel glad for their discretion. On the other hand, maybe they just found it as simple and natural as he did himself.

“That’s awful, Cas,” Sam said, eventually. “I’m sorry, man”.

Castiel shook his head at the younger Winchester. “Don’t be. I believe it was all for the best, in the end. Though we all have had our troubles, well, maybe not Gabriel, we have gotten to be the people we wanted to be. We wouldn’t have if they still were around. It’s better this way”.

Sam shot Dean a glance, and the two brothers shared a knowing look. Castiel wondered if that was the way Sam felt about John as well, that they were better off without him. Dean, though he still had trouble abandoning the need to prove himself to his long gone father, was beginning to feel the same way. But Castiel knew how much he missed his mother. Some things don’t ever go away, not even after twenty-two years.

“What about you guys?” Castiel asked, happily changing the subject. Jessica hummed.

“Well, these two fellas don’t feel like driving all the way up to Vancouver with me, where my parents and siblings live, so I’m going to spend an awesome holiday there by myself, stuffing my face so you’ll hardly recognize me when I return,” she said, grinning and nudging Sam in the shoulder. Sam looked at her with wide eyes, but his expression quickly turned neutral.

“Nah, you’ll look good anyway,” he said, and his girlfriend chuckled. Dean smiled at them, Castiel realizing he was still holding his hand. Castiel squeezed it gently, Dean turning his gaze towards him, and they both smiled. “No, Dean and I are thinking of taking the trip to Kansas again sometime after Christmas day, visit mom and Jo… mom and dad,” Sam swallowed hard, but continued on at Dean’s satisfied expression. “So we’ll just stick around here until then. Dean needs to talk to their headstones again,” he deadpanned, earning a kick under the table from his older brother. “Hey!”

Castiel grinned at him. “You talked to them?” he asked, smiling. Dean just shrugged.

“It might be growing on me,” he said smugly, winking at Castiel. Castiel huffed at that, then suddenly he got an idea.

“Why don’t you come with me to Anna?” he asked, looking between the two Winchester who both shot their eyebrows up at the question. “It will just be the three of us anyway, and we always buy too much food. There is no need for us to sit in each our apartment, twenty minutes apart, when we can be together. You’ve already met Gabriel and Anna would love to meet you both”.

The brothers smiled at that. “Are you sure?”

“I’m more than sure,” Castiel said, once again squeezing Dean’s hand. “I want you there”.

Dean shrugged. “Fine by me. But I’m bringing pie, I’m not having any of that premade crap”.

\----

So Christmas Eve, the brothers showed up at Anna’s place in the impala, Castiel meeting them downstairs to lead them to the apartment. They both looked handsome as ever in dark suits and ties, Dean wearing a green one which matched his eyes, and Sam wearing one with several Santa Clauses saying ‘Ho ho ho’. Castiel laughed at that. Sam blushed deeply red, matching the Santas with ease.

“Jess bought it for me,” he said, voice low yet slightly amused.

“Marry that girl, Sam,” Dean said, grinning.

Castiel showed the way up the stairs, Dean carrying four different pies in his arms, and opened the door to his sister’s apartment, where Anna had been working all day to make it fairly presentable and ‘Christmas spirity’. It was rather beautiful, dim sparkling lights and a beautifully decorated tree in the back corner.

Anna got acquainted with Dean and Sam while Gabriel and Castiel made a game out of finding the most interesting pieces of food in the delivered closed containers, and then they sat down to eat. The table talk went smoothly, Anna groaning in annoyance as Gabriel, to Sam and Dean’s amusement, described his recent dance at the club in grave detail, and Gabriel openly asking Sam for advice on some legal actions he needed to take, Castiel rolling his eyes at what reasons there possibly could be behind that need.

“What do you do for a living, Anna?” Dean asked the redhead somewhere between dinner and before pie. Anna looked at him with a smug smile.

“It’s all right, Dean. Castiel told me he revealed my little secret to the two of you. I don’t mind,” she said, winking at her brother. Dean grinned between the two of them.

“That’s awesome, ‘cause I have no idea what I would have said if you lied,” he exclaimed, huffing. “I’ll rephrase my question to ‘How did you get into writing’?”

Castiel flinched a little, Dean noticing immediately and groaning at himself. “Man, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” he began, but Anna just waved him off.

“Naturally, my husband and son dying had something to do with my interest for writing heartbroken poetry about life and death, Dean. It’s not that hard to tell, which is also one of the reasons I keep anonymous, so they won’t come poking into my past. I don’t want that. I just want to honor their memory in the only way I can. By remembering them, and therefore not letting them die. When I write about them, I feel like they’re still with me,” she said. She looked to Castiel. “My brother here brought me to their graves a month back, something I haven’t been able to do since we laid them down eight years ago. So now I can talk to them as well, not just write to them. That helps”. She grasped Castiel’s hand quickly across the table and smiled gratefully towards him.

Gabriel huffed. “And thank god for that, If I read one more sappy poem about your need to speak, but not finding words, I’m going to need to buy a new pack of Kleenex for my office at work,” he said dramatically, Anna rolling her eyes.

“You cry that much, Gabriel?” Castiel asked, dead serious. Gabriel smirked.

“Nah, I mostly use them for other… stuff”.

Anna stood up abruptly. “Pie!” she said loudly, eyes to Dean. “Now, please”.

They ate pie, Dean once again showing of his excellent cooking skills, and drank coffee and eggnog, Sam and Gabriel getting equally tipsy by the end of the night. Dean laughed so hard at Sam attempting to mimic Gabriel’s dancing routine for his club, Castiel almost thought he would have a heart attack. Dean, as always, didn’t touch the alcohol.

“Don’t you want anything, Dean?” Anna asked softly from her corner of the couch, watching Sam and her brother in amusement. “I have some milder stuff if you prefer it”.

Dean shook his head. “I appreciate it, but me and the hard stuff haven’t always gotten along all that great, so I eventually just quit it all together. It’s easier that way,” he said, smiling at the redhead who looked at him with interest in return. Castiel did as well.

“I didn’t know that,” Castiel said, voice low. Dean shrugged.

“I had a hard time, after my dad died. It never got all that bad, but there was this incident when I was supposed to pick up Sammy at an art show, the nerd. It was out of town and the busses didn’t run that late, and Sammy was still too young to drive. Legally, anyway. And, uhm… I drank too much and passed out. Forgot about Sam. Sam eventually just walked home. It took him seven hours”. Dean shook his head at the memory. “He didn’t talk to me for a week, just came out to eat when called. I haven’t had a drink since. Realized I had to step up and be the big brother Sam needed me to be. That mom… and dad, would have wanted me to be”.

Castiel wanted to stretch out and grab Dean, pull him closely into his arm and kiss away the frown on his face. He hated how he couldn’t. He hesitated to at least take his hand and squeeze it, but didn’t want to push Dean’s limits in front of unknown people. So he held back.

“We all have our demons,” Anna said, voice timid. “I would say you have handled yours fairly well”. Dean smiled at that. Then Anna rose, yawning loudly. “I’m sorry, fellas, but I’m going to hit the sack. This is too much testosterone for me at once, though I must admit I kind of missed it”. She winked at them and headed off to her room, but turned in the door. “Oh, I’ve already put the mattresses in your rooms, so you don’t have to worry about that,” she said, smiling.

Sam looked quickly at Dean. “That’s very kind of you, Anna, but we’ll be driving soon,” Sam said. Anna pinched her brows. Then Dean spoke up.

“Actually, I’m kind of beat. I think we’ll take you up on that offer, if that’s all right with you, Sam?”

Sam smiled, almost as brightly as Castiel.

Sam and Gabriel, without commenting on it, took the guest room, while Dean and Castiel headed for Michael’s old room. Anna had bought a larger bed the second year after the accident, when she realized that looking at the small children’s bed only made her sadder. Castiel had helped her carry it out, and they donated it to a children’s home. Anna even wrote a poem about that.

The two men brushed their teeth, Dean loaning a spare toothbrush, and returned to the bedroom. Dean looked at the large bed with some hint of horror on his face, or that was Castiel’s interpretation of it anyway.

“I’ll sleep on the mattress,” Castiel said easily, sitting down on it lying right next to the bed. It vaguely reminded Castiel of sleeping over at one of his friends’ house as a child. Alternatively, when Michael came to sleep over with his cool uncle Castiel. He pulled of his jacket, tie and shirt, smiling a little at how easily he could do that around Dean now. Dean hardly even looked at his scars anymore. They were just a part of him, like everything else. A part of the past.

“Cas, you can have the bed,” Dean said, voice wavering, but Castiel shook his head.

“I prefer it this way. Now, if you fall out of the bed, you’ll fall straight on me,” Castiel said, grinning. Dean chuckled.

“And here I thought _you_ were supposed to be the fallen angel,” Dean said, sitting down on the mattress next to Castiel. They both rested their heads against the bed, and then on each other. Castiel hummed.

“Exactly. I have already fallen. And you still have my wings, so it’s not like I can fly anywhere”.

Dean laughed, a now familiar and caressing sound that Castiel had come to enjoy so much.

“That was my plan all along,” Dean said tiredly, grasping their hands together. Castiel chuckled. Then Dean pulled his head away, looking towards Castiel.

“Ehm, I wasn’t sure if I should bring this up… but…,” he began, Castiel pulling slightly away, worried. “I saw the scars. On Anna’s wrists”.

Castiel’s shoulders fell down in relief. “Oh, right,” he said. “Yes, they’re not a pretty sight, are they?”

Dean shrugged. “They’re not like yours,” he said simply. “Yours are intended to hurt you. Or, well, to hurt you in a different way then what’s already hurting you. Anna’s were intended to be permanent. Weren’t they?”

Castiel looked at Dean, and laid his chin down on the other man’s shoulder.

“You are an observant man, Dean Winchester,” he said, earning a small chuckle from the other man. “And yes, you are correct”. He sighed and sat up. “The 5th November they day after the accident, the anniversary of it, I came over to Anna’s place, to check on her. And I found her, in her bed. She was playing their wedding song on her stereo, and Michael’s favorite cartoon was muted on the television in front of her room. And Anna was lying there, face upwards, with slit wrists and blood flowing... everywhere. And she was so pale, which considering her already pale complexion is quite the accomplishment”. He huffed at his own attempt at a joke. “I called an ambulance and carried her out of the building. They stabilized her on the way to the hospital, and it was luckily never critical. But it took years before she became herself again. They had her institutionalized for a while. That’s when she started writing”.

Castiel looked at Dean, holding his hand tightly. “And that’s when I started harming myself,” he said after a moment of silence. Dean frowned.

“Why?”

Castiel shrugged. “Because I needed to find something to hang onto. And it couldn’t be Anna, because she had too much to handle on her own. And it couldn’t be Gabriel, because I wanted to be a good role model for him, though he clearly managed well enough on his own. I wanted to be there for them, but was still too traumatized from the accident to even begin taking care of myself, less alone anyone else. So I found control in my own, horrible, self-destructing way. And I have regretted it ever since”.

Dean pulled him in for a chaste kiss, Castiel letting out a breath and leaning forward for more, but Dean put his fingers to Castiel’s lips.

“You can’t be a warrior of god without a few scars,” Dean said with a smile, removing his fingers to give the man another, longer kiss. Castiel hummed into it.

Dean eventually sat up and returned to his own bed. Castiel could hear his breath going heavier by the minute, himself feeling the lull of sleep dragging him in as well.

“Cas?” Dean said, hardly a whisper.

“Yes, Dean?”

The other man fell silent for a while.

“Are you my boyfriend?”

Castiel turned around on his mattress, looking up at the contours of the man, hardly able to see him in the dark. He coughed, clearing his throat.

“Ehm, do you want me to be?” he said after a while. Dean hummed in return.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I would like that,” he said, simply. Castiel smiled wide, though Dean couldn’t see. “Oh, and Cas?”

Castiel chuckled. This was getting more like a sleepover by the second. “Yes, Dean?”

“Will you sleep with me?”

So Cas wordlessly brought his comforter with him and laid down on the bed beside Dean, pulling him closer so Dean laid with his back towards his chest. They both sighed with contentment.

“Dean,” Castiel said, breathing into Dean’s neck. “I don’t believe in god”.

Dean yawned tiredly.

“I know you don’t. But I believe in angels”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please, please, please do me a favor and close your eyes and just imagine Sam and Gabriel dancing to Justin Timberlake's 'Sexy back' in Anna's apartment. Kills me every time.


	11. The Lover (Whole lotta love)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter! All love and good fun, enjoy.

Christmas day, they all sat down together to eat breakfast, pancakes and bacon, prepared by Dean, of course. They all moaned at the greasy combination of salty and sweet, humming in appreciation and complementing the chef. Dean just grinned and stood up to serve the coffee. When he came around to Castiel’s side, he poured the coffee wordlessly, Castiel having told him, or prepared him for, the fact that his caffeine tolerance required at least three cups in the morning. Then Dean bowed down and kissed the back of Castiel’s head, gently, holding his free hand on Castiel’s shoulder. Castiel felt himself closing his eyes at the sensation, enjoying the warmth of Dean’s hand against his shoulder. Then Dean let go, pouring his own coffee and sat down. Sam, bless the man, was keeping his cool, but Anna and Gabriel were both grinning so hard, Castiel thought their teeth would fall out. He shot them a warning glare, and they coughed themselves back into regular facial expressions, once again complimenting Dean’s food.

Sam and Dean thanked Anna for her hospitality for the hundredth before leaving. Sam gave Gabriel a slightly nervous handshake, which Castiel didn’t miss, though Dean was too occupied with writing his recipe for cherry pie down to Anna, who told him it was Ezekiel’s favorite. When Sam came walking towards Dean, still looking a little flustered, Castiel stepped towards his little brother, who was smirking secretively.

“What did you do?” Castiel asked, and his brother simply hummed. “He has a girlfriend, Gabriel,” Castiel warned, but Gabriel just waved him of.

“Oh, I know, don’t you worry your pretty little head, big brother. Every man should experience some guy on guy action in his time. I just took our little dance to another level”.

Castiel rolled his eyes, already seeing himself promising Sam to never, ever tell Dean, or it would be the end of him.

“Oh, and Cassie baby?” Gabriel said, Castiel shooting him an annoyed glared at the overused nickname, but Gabriel smiled at him. An actual honest to god earnest smile. “I like him. Don’t blow it”.

Sam and Dean asked him to come with them to Kansas. Castiel was unsure, thinking that was a family thing, something they should be doing alone. They both insisted, so eventually he caved.

They drove to Kansas the next day, to a place called Lawrence. Dean pointed out their old house in passing, but they didn’t feel like bothering the young woman and her children by stopping to take another look. They drove straight towards the cemetery instead. Dean took Castiel’s hand as Sam walked ahead of them and stopped beside the gravestones of Mary and John Winchester. Dean didn’t talk this time. He just looked at them, smiling sadly.

“Do you believe in heaven, Cas?” Dean asked, after a few minutes of silence. The younger Winchester looked at his brother with a sad expression on his face. Castiel understood. He sometimes wished he believed in God, in heaven, paradise and seeing your loved ones on ‘the other side’. It must be so calming, to feel like you have a destined path to follow. That everything will work itself out in the end. Castiel didn’t believe that. He believed you would need to fight for the ending you want, to work for it, to earn it. And if you deserve it, it will come to you.

“I don’t,” he eventually answered. “But I believe in peace”.

When they came home, they spent New Year’s with Jess, Charlie and Jo, Pamela and Ash, Sarah and Kevin, and many more as well that Castiel had or had not met. It didn’t scare him as much anymore, though he still ran the other way when he saw Sarah. And when Dean drew him in for a midnight kiss in front of everyone, he truly thought he couldn’t be happier.

\----

Sam and Castiel continued to meet every Tuesday, though it had become somewhat of a joke between them, considering they often met between two to four other days a week as well. Dean brought Castiel to his own place more often now, hanging out with Sam and Jess. Sometimes Castiel came over when Dean was at work, and when Dean came home, he kissed Castiel gently and went for a shower, and then Castiel stayed over. They always slept in the same bed, intertwined. Sam told him he enjoyed their Tuesday meetings, because then they actually got to be alone together, and like Sam sometimes said: ‘You were my friend first’, and then they laughed. They ate at Lucy’s sometimes as well, Lucifer giving Castiel a stern look and a striking slap on his ass when he first came in after his absence. Charlie, Jo and Sam had laughed so hard at the expression on Castiel’s face, Castiel had told Lucifer to spit in their food. He didn’t, he did however give them the most amazing and buttery waffles Castiel had tasted in years.

One Tuesday late January, after celebrating Dean’s 27th birthday the previous weekend, Sam was sitting in his chair, which truly was his by now, throwing Castiel’s stress ball up and down, feet on the desk. Castiel was leaning against the window, looking absently at the ball’s movements.

“You get paid for this, right?”

Castiel looked questioningly at Sam. “Paid for what?”

“For hanging out with me,” Sam said, dropping the ball to the ground. Castiel tilted his head at him.

“Sam, if you don’t think I appreciate our time together…”

Sam laughed. “No, dude, chill. I’m not stupid. I’m just wondering why Cain is doing this whole mentoring thing, and then not supervising it at all. I mean, I’m fine, I’m great even. And so are you! It wasn’t like that at first, I know that, but if the point of this is to keep me from throwing a fit at someone for bullying some other student, then the fact that it has been a whole semester and I haven’t, should be proof enough that these meetings really aren’t necessary. Though I do enjoy them very much, trust me. I’m getting so used to free food from Lucifer now, it will be a bitch going back to paying for my own salads”.

Castiel chuckled but thought about Sam’s words. He was right. And though he also enjoyed their meetings, he assumed Cain would like to know if he was using unnecessary money to keep Sam the puppy dog that does no harm in check.

“Dean said you guys are going to the graveyard again tonight. Special occasion?” Sam asked, bringing Castiel back to their conversation. He nodded at the younger man.

“Ezekiel’s birthday,” he said. Sam looked at him and smiled gently. Castiel had told Sam and Jess about the accident one night the previous week. They had finally taken Castiel to the Roadhouse, and Dean was driving them home. They were all talking, laughing at something, and then Dean looked at Castiel for two seconds too long, which almost ended with them crashing into a drunk driver, driving on the wrong side of the road. Dean, thanks to good reflexes and nothing more, managed to pull sharply to the right as the other driver did the same thing, and they just missed each other. Castiel had jumped in his own seat, panting with adrenaline, pushing his seat belt off. He almost threw himself out of the car, desperate for air. He vomited on the ground before him, breathing rapidly, but there was simply no oxygen left in the air, and he felt like dying. Then Dean came up behind him and held his arms around him from behind. Castiel tried to throw him off, shaking and shoving at the other man, but Dean stood his ground, whispering Castiel’s name soothingly into his ear.

“It’s okay, Cas. You’re okay. I’m okay. Nothing happened”.

Castiel had eventually calmed in Dean’s arms, and they both sat down on the ground, Castiel sobbing into Dean’s chest and Dean kissing away his tears. Sam and Jessica had exited the Impala as well, and just stood by it, holding each other close and watching Castiel with pained expressions. They had been so sad to hear about the accident later on. Castiel asked Dean why he didn’t tell them himself. Dean simply told him it was his story to tell.

“I think he’s in love with you,” Sam said then, shaking Castiel out of his memory. Castiel huffed.

“Though that’s nice of you to say, Sam, he’s not. Your brother has come a long way, but I don’t think he’s capable of loving another man yet. Of loving me,” he said, voice slightly trembling at the last words. He desperately wanted them to be true, but sometimes he thought John Winchester had left permanent marks on Dean’s heart as well, not only his body.

“Do you?” Sam asked, and Castiel looked at him quizzically.

“Do I what?”

“Do you love him?”

Castiel was a little taken aback by the question. Then he thought about the previous night, when Dean came over to his place after working a double shift at the auto shop, and Castiel had told him to hit the shower and turn in, seeing the sleep-deprived look on his face. But Dean had pulled him in for a deep kiss, though painted with grease and oil. And then he said: “I’m going to teach you how to make pecan pie”. And so he did. It turned out to be one messy lesson, both eventually ending up with flour all over them, throwing pecans at each other across the room and rolling on the floor in a ridiculously childish tickle competition. When the pie finally was in the oven, they sat beside it, just looking at each other sheepishly and making out on the floor.

And it was heaven.

“Of course I do”.

\---

Dean came to pick him up after his last class of the day. Castiel was enjoying teaching so much more recently, being more at ease with himself and his own methods of teaching after the evaluation Cain had read aloud to him. He dared the students to speak up, to discuss, to say the things they were unsure of. And if someone laughed, Castiel didn’t throw them out or yell at them, but he praised the person who had spoken up, saying that was what strength was. To never be afraid to speak your mind, even if you got laughed at or bullied for it. “That’s what makes a good artist,” Castiel said.

Dean and Castiel sat by the cemetery, eating a spinach pie Dean had made for them. Dean grimaced at the ‘green gooey stuff’, saying it was the only thing left in their fridge, but Castiel thought it was excellent.

“Hello, Michael,” Castiel said after a while. “I brought Dean again today. Dean is my _boyfriend_ now. Can you believe it? Ain’t I one lucky man?”

Dean chuckled, rolling his eyes and he sipped his coffee, smiling at the older man.

“It’s your dad’s birthday, he would have been 40 today. Now that, that’s old”.

“Only five years left yourself, man,” Dean said, grinning at Castiel who stuck his tongue out at the other man.

“Anyhow, I thought I should try talking to him today. What do you think? See, Dean here, Dean is making me so much braver. He makes me want to be a better man, someone worthy of all the good people around me. So I think I should prove to myself that I can be brave”.

Dean sat his cup down, crossing his legs halfway and looked gently at Castiel, but he didn’t say anything. Castiel cleared his throat.

“Uhm, hello, Ezekiel,” he began. He took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for not doing this sooner. I wish I had, but it’s been hard. Sometimes, I even think you wouldn’t want to speak to me, if you could. So… I guess, if you can hear me, which you probably can’t, then just don’t listen if you don’t want to”. He frowned a little. “I know you never meant me no harm. I know you never had anything against me, just who I enjoyed spending my time with. But the people I spend my time with are a big part of who I am. So I want you to meet my boyfriend, Dean”.

Dean looked at Castiel with his mouth open. Castiel turned to him and smiled softly, looking Dean straight in the eye.

“I am falling completely and madly in love with him, and he doesn’t even know it yet”.

The shock in Dean’s expression was almost comical, but Castiel turned back towards the headstone. “And I want you to know that I forgive every word you ever said, because if you had known how I feel today, how good it feels to find someone who makes you whole again, you would have understood. I know you would. I am _proud_ of who I am, and you, in your own way, helped me to be. So I forgive you, and I thank you, and god I miss you and Michael so bad sometimes, Anna too”.

He kissed his own fingers and pressed them gently towards the headstone, smiling at Elvis the rabbit, still standing on top of the grave.

“I wish you peace”.

Then he turned to look at Dean, who was looking back with an expression Castiel didn’t recognize, but Dean took him by the hand and helped him up to his feet.

“Let’s go home,” Dean said simply, laying a hand on Castiel’s waist and walked towards the car. Dean didn’t talk much on the drive back to Castiel’s place. The older man sent him some concerned looks, but didn’t speak up. Had it been too much? Was he freaked out by Castiel’s words? Castiel fell in on himself, looking out the window to avoid Dean’s gaze. Dean, however, kept watching the road.

When they parked in front of Castiel’s apartment, Castiel got out wordlessly, not sure if Dean would follow, but he was right behind him the second Castiel unlocked the door and they walked upstairs.

When they got inside, Castiel turned to Dean with a sigh.

“Dean…,” he began, wanting to apologize, but at the same time, Dean laid his hands on Castiel’s shoulders.

“Cas?” he asked. Castiel looked up at him.

“Yes, Dean?”

“May I kiss you?”

Castiel let out a relieved breath, then a small chuckle.

“You don’t need permission to kiss me, Dean,” he said, smiling at the man. Dean didn’t smile though, just entwined his fingers behind Castiel’s neck and pulled him into a kiss so intimate, Castiel couldn’t help but to want more, pressing his tongue against the other man’s. When Castiel eventually pulled away, he gasped at the lustful look in his boyfriend’s eyes, Dean biting his lower lip through his teeth.

“Cas?” he asked again, Castiel swallowing hard.

“Y-yes, Dean?”

“May I take your clothes off?”

There was a surprised noise escaping Castiel’s throat, but he just nodded a few times more than necessary, and then Dean was on him again. Kissing him deeply, sliding his hands down Castiel’s back and letting them slip under the hem of his jeans, grasping at the skin beneath. Castiel let out a moan, already hard at the touch of the other man pressing up against him.

“B-bedroom,” Castiel gasped out before once again pulling Dean’s mouth against his own, breathing him in. Dean just nodded and dragged the other man towards the bedroom. He tugged on Castiel’s shirt while pulling of his own in the prosess. Both shirtless, they slammed into Castiel’s bedroom door, pressing the doorknob down to open it with their own bodyweight. Before Castiel could open his mouth to articulate words, he was moaning at Dean’s insistent kisses down his neck and bare chest, Dean lying on top of him on the bed. He was unzipping Castiel’s jeans, pulling both them and his boxer briefs down in one quick motion. He stilled for a second, and Castiel looked up to see the frightened look on the younger man’s face at the sight before him. But it wasn’t there. Dean was looking at him with what Castiel only could tell was adoration, moving his hands down to Castiel’s hip bones and dragging them down in one, slow motion.

“God, Cas…,” Dean breathed out, swallowing hard. Then he leaned down to kiss Castiel’s thighs, moving upwards and biting gently at the thin skin close to his cock. He kissed the top of the head, closed mouth first, then open, and then he was sucking it down in one, swift motion, making Castiel’s hips lift from the bed beneath him in contentment. Castiel moaned, grasping the back of Dean’s neck with one hand, while holding onto the bed with the other, and he gasped at how good it felt, not having done that in years. Dean quickly found his rhythm, stumbling a bit at first, going to hard and fast, clashing his teeth against the thin skin beneath his mouth, but it felt so good nonetheless, and Castiel was so turned on at the near sight of the beautiful man before him, mouth draped around Castiel’s cock. Dean pulled off, grasping for air, and Castiel pulled him towards him, kissing him hard and taking them both in hand beneath them, stroking them in slow motions. Dean gasped into Castiel’s neck, groaning with pleasure, while Castiel kissed his way down from Dean’s earlobe towards his clavicle.

“Mm, Cas, stop,” Dean breathed out, and Castiel did, at once, looking warily up at the man lying above him. He removed his hand from their cocks and draped it over the side of Dean’s face.

“What do you want, Dean?” Castiel asked gently, but Dean was still panting hard.

“I want you, Cas. I want all of you,” Dean said, going in for another deep kiss, which Castiel returned before pulling away again.

“W-what do you mean?” Castiel asked, though he was pretty sure what the other man was trying to say, he needed it to come from Dean’s own mouth, in his own words.

“I want you to fuck me, Cas,” he gasped out, and fuck Castiel if he didn’t simply moan at the thought of it, cock twitching with anticipation.

“Are you sure? It might be easier if you top first, you know…,” Castiel asked gently, though god how much he wanted to feel himself inside of Dean, feel his tightness and willingness to open up for Castiel. Dean nodded.

“I-I know. But I’m sure. I trust you, Cas,” Dean said, moving to lie down next to his boyfriend. Castiel moved over to his elbows, pressing himself upwards to grab the needed equipment when Dean grabbed his wrist, pulling his attention back towards him.

“Cas,” Dean began, biting his lip. Castiel looked at him with awe, wondering how a man so gorgeous could want someone as him. “I love you”.

Castiel starred at him, eyes wide and mouth open. “You what?” he croaked out, clearing his throat. Dean chuckled nervously, but swallowed it down. He held Castiel’s gaze.

“I love you,” he said, once more, stronger now. And he smiled at Castiel, so soft and warm. “I love you”.

And Castiel was kissing him with a desperation and passion he didn’t know he had inside him, grasping the man’s head between his hands and breathing all of him in, never wanting to forget that feeling, that moment.

“Oh god, how I love you too, Dean,” Castiel gasped into Dean’s mouth, peppering him with kisses, and Dean laughed into his mouth. Castiel was smiling dumbstruck at his boyfriend when Dean motioned with his hands towards Castiel’s nightstand.

“Get going before I come in my bloody pants like I’m fourteen or something,” Dean breathed out, laughing. Castiel went for the lube and the condoms while Dean pulled down his pants, and on Castiel’s command, Dean turned around to stand on his hands and knees. Castiel pressed a few drops of lube onto his fingers, warming it up in his hands before slowly starting to open Dean up, one small push at a time. Dean breathed erratically at the first finger, moaning hard when Castiel crooked it inside him after a minute. “Another,” Dean gasped. Castiel complied after a few more in and out movements. He scissored his fingers while gently stroking Dean’s hips with his free hand, kissing his lower back. “You are doing so good, Dean,” Castiel hummed in between kisses. At the third finger, Dean was practically pushing himself onto Castiel, egging him to get on with it, and Castiel, finding Dean satisfactorily open and welcoming, removed his fingers carefully. Dean gasped at the emptiness, quickly recovering as Castiel pressed his condom-draped head against Dean’s hole, stroking a hand up his back. “Ready?” he asked, and god he wanted this. Dean just nodded. “I need words, Dean,” Castiel breathed out, pushing slightly harder against the younger man’s rim. “Yes, please, do it,” Dean gasped, and Castiel did. They both cried out in satisfaction as Castiel bottomed out inside Dean, holding his position until they both breathed easily again, already sweat stricken and so hot against each other. Castiel moved gently, no hard or rushed movements, knowing neither of them would last very long. They didn’t, Dean falling over the edge a few minutes in, Castiel quickly following at the sound of the other man’s content cry as he came in strong pulses against the mattress. They fell apart on the bed, both breathing hard and grinning at each other.

“Shower?” Castiel asked when he pulled out, tossing the very much used condom aside. Dean hummed.

“Shower,” he confirmed.

They sat on the bathroom floor for a while, shower on, both smiling and playing with each other’s hands while coming down from their high.

“I love you,” Dean said, once more, leaning against the other man’s forehead.

“Oh, so you didn’t just say that to get me to fuck you, then?” Castiel joked, kissing the other man’s dramatic pout of his face.

“I love you too, Dean”.

\---

Castiel was leaning against Meg’s desk, waiting for the secretary to return from wherever she was hiding. They were quickly heading towards mid semester, Castiel already working hard with his classes’ upcoming exams, which he was thinking about just then, while whistling and throbbing his finger absently against the desk in front of him. When the brunette eventually stepped out from around the corner, she had another man at her heels who was tucking his shirt down his pants and fixing his tie with a look of mortification at the sight of Castiel. Meg, however, just grinned and laid a hand on Castiel’s forearm, bare today, with sleeves rolled up. Meg didn’t notice his scars. After Dean had pushed him to go to work in a t-shirt a month earlier, Castiel sweating bullets the entire day, he had found that most people just… didn’t care. And if they did, they didn’t mention it or treat him differently.

“If it isn’t my darling unicorn!” Meg exclaimed, voice smug and low. “Can I go for a ride?”

Castiel rolled his eyes at her, but smiled calmly.

“I think you have ridden enough for one lunch break, wouldn’t you say?” Castiel deadpanned, Meg smirking at him and the now fully dressed man beside her looked down in embarrassment. Meg shooed him off, and he bolted around the corner before anyone could tell him otherwise. The woman looked at Castiel with an easy smile.

“As a matter of fact, I have,” she said and sighed dramatically. “It’s no fun when I have to do all the work”.

She pouted at him, which almost made Castiel chuckle.

“I’m here to see Cain?” he asked, smiling at the woman. She huffed in return.

“He’s not there yet. Probably out banging some doctorate,” Meg said, and jumped up on the desk so her feet were dangling in the air. She chewed on her gum with another smirk towards Castiel. Castiel pinched his eyebrows.

“Does he do that?” he asked, not seeing Cain as the kind of man that would jeopardize the work environment in such a way. Like Meg. Basically. Meg shrugged.

“Who knows. That man keeps his secrets close to his chest. But… he always seems to know what’s going on with everyone else, have you noticed? Sometimes I wonder if he has spies everywhere”. She bit her thumb distantly and looked up at the ceiling. “Or cameras”.

Castiel followed her gaze, Meg waving, grinning, at a camera that wasn’t there. He looked at her with another patient smile.

“Right. I’ll just be waiting in Cain’s office then,” he said and turned away from the woman.

“You know the way”.

Castiel sat in Cain’s chair, as he had so many times before, waiting for the other man who, though otherwise so organized and professional, was always late. It kind of reminded him of Gabriel, never being able to have all his stuff in order at once, as if it was too much for one brain to handle.

Cain eventually came through the door, humming happily and then smiling with open arms at the site of Castiel.

“Novak! Always a pleasure. Hope I didn’t make you wait too long,” the longhaired man said, sitting down across from Castiel and leaning back in his chair with ease.

“You never do, Cain”.

“How can I be of service to you today? Teaching good? Thesis good? That large mentee of yours good?”

Castiel smiled.

“All of the above, but I’m only here to talk about the last one,” he said, which cocked Cain’s interest. The other man sat up straighter in his chair.

“Fire away,” he said simply. Castiel looked down at his hands for a second, then up again.

“Well. I don’t really see the reason to continue my meetings with Samuel Winchester,” he said, which made Cain’s eyebrows rise.   
“And why is that?”

“Because he doesn’t need them anymore. He has not hurt a fly, nor wanted to, since he came here this fall. He’s actually one of the calmest men I have met”. Castiel found himself smiling at the memory of Sam and Gabriel dancing to Justin Timberlake’s ‘Sexy back’ on Christmas Eve. Well, mostly calm.

Cain hummed at him. “Then you have done your job well,” he said simply, once again leaning casually back in his chair. Castiel nodded at him and returned Sam’s folder, now full with notes from Castiel and even a few cartoons from Sam himself. Cain took it and laid it down on the desk in front of him.

“Yes, well, I wanted to ask you something else as well,” he said, clearing his throat. Cain smiled crookedly.

“You want to know who is mentoring the other students?” he said, smirking. Castiel, seeing where this was going, just nodded. “Well, as I think that smart head of yours already have guessed, there are no others”.

Then Cain opened his drawer, extracting the pile of documents he had shown Castiel half a year ago. And this time Castiel definitely saw it, the small, purple bottle of lube in the left corner of the drawer. Castiel had one of those at home himself, having used it with Dean just last night. Castiel smiled to himself. Oh, that man definitely had his secrets.

Cain gave the folders to Castiel. “Open them”. And he did. They were full of statistics on the economy of the university, bills and funds and lots of other stuff Castiel didn’t understand. He shook his head.

“Then why?” he exclaimed, looking puzzled at Cain. “Why me? Why Sam? I don’t understand”.

Cain hummed. “I’ve known you for 15 years, Castiel. I _know_ you,” the man said and winked at him. Castiel gulped, thinking Meg might be right about both the spies and the cameras. “And when I met young Samuel Winchester, when I talked to him, I could tell he had his troubles as well. I simply thought you both could use some inspiration”. Cain smiled innocently at him.

Castiel didn’t really know what to say. “It seems like an unnecessary use of funding…” he eventually got out, which made Cain smile even wider.

“Did it change?” the man said, and now he was leaning forward in his seat, looking intently at Castiel, who looked questioningly at him in return.

“C-change what?”

Cain smiled.

“Anything?”

And Castiel thought. He thought of how he had found a dear friend in Samuel Winchester. Someone with a lot of the same interests as himself, someone to turn to at difficult times. He thought about Castiel pushing Sam to ask Jessica out, them eventually ending up together and now seeming happier than ever. He thought about Sam and Dean. Castiel, in the brothers’ own words, helping them to speak more freely with each other, to talk about their difficult pasts and promising futures. He thought about Charlie and Jo, and how he got to present his friends before his mess of a younger brother who never thought Castiel would gain another friend in his life. He thought about Anna, how he had been able to turn to her for help, finally letting himself feel weak in front of her again, and in return, Anna had been strong enough to fight her own fears and came with him to meet her long gone family. Which in turn had made Castiel brave enough to pursue his feelings for Dean. He thought about ‘his wings’, now hanging on the wall in Dean’s bedroom. He had known it would take both time and effort to make Dean feel equally safe with him. And now he did. Dean loved him. And Castiel thought to himself that if there was such a thing as true love, then this was it. Castiel felt more comfortable in his own skin than he ever had, knowing he had the most amazing people around him to support him if that were to change.

“It did,” Castiel eventually answered, looking distantly away from Cain. And he smiled.

“It changed everything”.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> End of the road! Thank you so much for reading if you made it this far, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. I'm in love with this entire fandom, we're the best. Winky face.   
> Take care of yourselves <3


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